The Bitter Glass
by Massanie
Summary: COMPLETE. Part 1 of The Bitter Glass Series: Everyone has their reasons, their secrets, their own skeletons in their closet. Erestor more than others. Elrond/Glorfindel. Warnings inside
1. Ithilion

**Title:** The Bitter Glass  
**Series:** The Bitter Glass  
**Sequel to:**  
**Characters:** Elrond/Glorfindel, Elrond/Celebrían, Erestor, Elladan, Elrohír, Arwen, Galadriel, Celeborn, Melpomaen, Lindir  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings:** violence, AU, mentioned child abuse  
**Beta:** oli…x  
**Disclaimer:** Sadly, the only thing I own is the plot but none of the characters or places in it… they are all Tolkien's and of course I'm not earning any money with this.  
**Summary:**Time heals not every wound, but every wound needs time to heal. If only we could stop looking at the past.

**CHAPTER 1: Ithilion**

* * *

Gaze no more in the bitter glass.  
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,  
The holy tree is growing there;  
From joy the holy branches start,  
And all the trembling flowers they bear.  
(Loreena McKennit, The Two Trees)

* * *

Elrond looked at the solemn youth before him, thinking to himself that the quiet darkling was the night's impersonation: midnight black hair, skin as pale and shining as moonlight; his dark silver eyes glimmered like stars with an intelligence beyond his young age. Yet he was cold like a lonely winter night, his face completely devoid of emotions, a carefully attached mask that did not suit one so young in Elrond's opinion.

"And you want him to be your assistant?"

The older elf standing before Imladris' Lord only nodded and smiled. He was a tall elf with hazel hair and eyes that constantly seemed to sparkle with humour or mischief. Lord Dírhael was one of those elves who only needed to enter a room to brighten the mood considerably. They said him to be able to befriend any dwarf. Elrond seriously doubted that - but there was no denying, that his chief advisor was able to talk nearly anyone into nearly anything with his smile.  
A convincing smile of that kind was now directed towards the lord of Imladris - and he hated it.

Elrond sighed. "I can´t allow that. He is obviously underage. I'm sorry."

"I am far older than I look: I will reach my maturity within the decade and it is a widely accepted fact, that an elf does not undergo great steps in development in such a short time - physically and emotionally.  
Furthermore I enjoyed a very good education and if I might be so blunt, my skills and knowledge in humanities and science are far better than common at my age."

Elrond blinked and then informed the child in front of him, that this still made him a minor, whom to employ was *illegal*. Dírhael only pursed his lips to keep himself from laughing at his lord's expression, then turned towards his charge and before Erestor could go on, he interfered softly. "Would you wait outside for a moment, please?"

The youth looked up to the chief advisor, gave a curt nod and swiftly exited the room while Elrond still stared at him, one eyebrow raised in irritation.

Dírhael sat down in front of his lord and friend's desk, his smile slowly fading into seriousness.

"Elrond, I realize that I am asking a great favour of you, but I beg you to let Erestor stay here and unofficially help me a little bit. I don´t ask you to employ him full-time." He paused, seeking eye contact with his lord and friend.  
"But he cannot go back to where he hails from. I promised not to reveal the details, but his life was not a good one so far."

Elrond quirked an eyebrow, letting his advisor know that he would not let him off the hook that easily.

"He is from Mirkwood, and yes I am absolutely aware of the difficulties" Dírhael added, when his Lord was about to interject.  
"But I have friends there. Some border guards who once saved my elongated spine from getting eaten by spiders. I trust them Elrond, they are good people. Every time I visit Mirkwood, I spend at least one week with them, if they can afford it."

"The same border guards, who accompanied your young friend to Imladris?"

"If you knew his origins all along, why didn't you comment on it earlier?" The advisor asked in bewilderment.

The Lord of Imladris smiled slyly. "I wanted to see if my trustworthy chief advisor deemed it an important enough fact to tell me."

Said advisor only grumbled ill-humoured and Elrond laughed quietly.

"I am impressed though. Had I not seen them entering Imladris that day, I wouldn't have noticed without you telling me. He has no accent at all."

"I know ... it's a curious thing ... most of Thranduil's people do not bother to hide their accent. But it shows his good upbringing."  
Dírhael waited some moments. He did not want to betray the young one's trust but he needed to tell Elrond what happened.

"Thalion said that his unit found Erestor in the woods. He had no food with him, not even a water flask. No weapons. Nonetheless he had successfully made his way to Mirkwood's boarders alive and unscathed and without being noticed so far.  
He was sleeping on a tree when they came upon him.  
He must have been very afraid and pleaded with them not to send him back and Thalion, being the elf he is, immediately took Erestor under his wing. And the others ... well, most of them are related in one way or another, or very close friends. So they all kind of adopted him ... They call him 'tôr' or 'rusc'." Dírhael smiled at the thought of calling the dark youngster 'fox'.  
"Thalion managed to make Erestor tell him his story and decided that Erestor could not stay in Mirkwood, so they brought him to me and told me what his family did to him."  
Dírhael halted, seemingly not inclined to reveal more details. He leaned back in his arm chair, folding his hands in his lap while encountering his lord's raised eyebrow with a calm gaze.

"You know I can't let him stay with my chief advisor all day, seeing and hearing everything. There are ..."

"Oh, all right." Dírhael sighed dramatically, then he continued, seeking eye contact with his lord.  
"His mother drowned in the Enchanted River soon after giving birth to him and since no one knew the identity of his father Erestor lived with his mother's relatives."

Elrond watched his friend closely. The usual mirthful advisor leaned back in his chair, his hazel eyes so full of sadness directed towards the large windows facing Imladris beautiful gardens. Restlessly they roamed over the landscape as if he was searching something there, searching for words to describe what was too despicable to describe.  
He settled for telling the facts.  
"They abused him. His uncle and his cousins did."

Elrond was perceptive enough to understand that Erestor's relatives had done more than simply beating the youth up. The way Dírhael said those words, the way he looked ...

"They violated him?" In his shock Elrond raised his words, earning a glare from his advisor and immediately he lowered his voice.  
"I'm sorry ... They violated him? If that is true, he has to tell us their names. Such a crime cannot go unpunished! I can contact Thranduil and ..."

Dírhael only shook his head. "He won't tell. I've tried to convince him. But he only told me his uncle held an important position in Thranduil's court and no one would believe him. He is terribly afraid that his uncle might find him. All Erestor wants is to stay here. And I would like to help him."

"All the worse if the culprits hold important positions. Thranduil has to learn about this."

Dírhael wrung his hands in frustration "You will not get him to talk."

Both elves became engrossed in their own thoughts and silence settled between them. Long moments passed while Dírhael waited for his friend's decision in the matter. Elrond on the other side contemplated every possibility to ensure that Erestor's relatives got their just deserts.

Finally Dírhael quietly intercepted Elrond's musing. "He is one of the most intelligent elves I've ever met. True, he is not really modest ..."  
A gentle, almost fond smile played on the advisors lips, earning him an amused snort from his lord.  
"... but he is a gentle being. Not with foreign elves, but you should have seen how he handled my horse Carnil - or how Carnil handled him, I don't really know." He chuckled. "And Erestor is truly bright and he wants to learn. He is interested in everything he sees. He is versed in history – as much as one can be who has not seen it with his own eyes! He knows the basics of how to play the harp and the flute, he has some skill in phytology and I am absolutely positive, if you just give him the chance, he will be a great diplomat and economist as well as an architect and healer."

Elrond raised both hands and eyebrows to stop his chief advisor. "Oh Dírhael! He is neither one of the Maiar nor some higher being. And I have my doubts with him being a diplomat. None of his skills seem to include social abilities or courteousness."

Again silence settled between the two friends. Elrond watched his advisor. Dírhael was reliable and intelligent and he would normally trust him with his children's life. But in this matter he could not stop himself from doubting his friend's opinion.  
If a youth like Erestor had been violated he would surely be showing signs of the Elven sickness - maybe fading signs, barely visible, but still...

"Call him in; we'll see if he lies."

Dírhael looked to the door. He was a little bit nervous. He didn't doubt the young one, but Erestor seemed to have the ability to offend everyone he spoke with. Though he would have liked to avoid this situation, Erestor would now have to deal with Elrond's curiosity as a healer.

"Will you examine him?" Hearing the hesitation in Dírhael's voice, Elrond raised an eyebrow. He would do nothing to hurt the youth and his friend had always trusted him so far. That Dírhael didn't want Erestor to speak with him directly raised his interest further - and his mistrust.

"Superficially at least. But I promise to keep his past in mind, so will you please call him in?"

Dírhael stood sighing and walked to the door but as his hands reached for the doorknob, he hesitated again.

"Elrond, he is admittedly not very courteous, but I hope you will not hold his directness against him." The advisor looked at Elrond, seeking eye-contact.

"Sometimes, directness is a welcome change, my friend, and nothing I would hold anyone accountable for."

Dírhael murmured something unintelligible and opened the door, revealing a small anteroom, where Erestor sat, totally upright with his hands folded in his lap. The young one looked up, trying to read the advisor's face. "The decision is not yet made, am I correct? Shall I come in again?"

The older elf observed his charge. The young elf still seemed devoid of emotions, but his hands slightly shook, betraying his nervousness. Dírhael sighed sadly. He was sure that his charge would be allowed to stay. But he did not know if he could stay with him.

"Yes, please. Come in, pen neth."

Erestor looked back down to his hands and frowned as if he did not understand why they were shaking like that. Slowly he stood and with a last glance towards Dírhael, he entered Lord Elrond's study.

Dírhael followed, but stayed in the background and when Erestor noticed that he would have to stand his ground alone, he swallowed and hid his shivering hands in his sleeves. Up to now it had been some kind of job interview in which he had to convince the lord of Imladris to employ him, and he had had a powerful ally with the chief advisor. Now the next minutes would decide if he was allowed to stay or send back to his family and probably into death. And no one would help him win this fight it seemed.

"My lord, I realize that I might have been too forward, and I want to apologize, if ..."

Elrond had seen the youth starting to panic when Erestor noticed that Dírhael did not come to stand behind him like he had done earlier. His thoughtful, clinical gaze swept over the youngster's appearance and took notice of the small signs of fear: He saw the shivering hands being hid in the black sleeves, the dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. And so he interfered before Erestor started despairing in earnest.

"Hush, pen neth. I told it to my chief advisor moments ago, and I will repeat it to you: I appreciate forthrightness. Now, sit down, please."

Erestor sat down slowly, his eyes never leaving the face of lord Elrond. Said lord rounded his desk and hunkered down before the nervous youth. He then gently took the slender hands in his, the skin unhealthily cold and pale. For the first time he saw the dark eyes holding along to the intelligent sparkle a world-weariness that Elrond had never seen in one so young.  
With a lump in his throat he looked back to the slender fingers that ever so lightly shook within his grasp.

"Your hands are cold." he softly said. "Pen neth, since when have you felt the coldness?"  
Elrond looked up when Erestor was not answering. The young one's eyes were trained on his advisor, a look of pure betrayal on his face that slowly faded into the stone mask Erestor had worn before. Elrond saw all this with a sinking feeling - it seemed he had just destroyed all the trust the young one had had in Dírhael. It would surely cost his friend weeks, probably months, to rebuild what he had destroyed in less than one minute.

"Pen neth, look at me." Elrond waited, until Erestor faced him again, the cool, dark eyes resting on his. There was no emotion in them, all the nervousness had gone.  
Anger was a mighty friend that could easily beat fear if it was used in the right way. And anger could be hidden much more easily than fear. This lesson should not be learned so early in life if at all.

"I had to know. You are asking me to do something illegal by letting you work with Dírhael, for you are still some years short of your maturity. Furthermore he is my chief advisor - I cannot let a stranger whose past is to be concealed from me -lord of this valley and its guardian - work with someone who has insight in confidential matters. I told him to either tell me, or to forget about it. Can you understand that?"

Erestor sat motionless for some moments. Then he nodded. "Yes, my lord. I can understand your reasoning and would probably have done the same, had I been in your place. But I still think lord Dírhael could and should have asked me for my permission first. He gave me his promise!"

But the mask stayed in place nonetheless. Elrond decided that this problem had to be solved at a later time - and not by him.

"Erestor, since when have you been in the care of the Greenwood guards that accompanied you here?"

"eight months ... and 12 days."

"That's a long time to heal, yet the signs of the Elven sickness are apparent."

"I know, my lord. Some of the signs have been there for years now. They will need more time to diminish, or to vanish."  
Erestor's lips had become a thin line, but he held his lord's gaze, seemingly untouched by the fact that he had been dying ever so slowly.

Behind him, Dírhael swallowed and he blinked his tears away. Elrond looked at the youth, feeling depressed. The young one had been destroyed, his innocence stolen away from him and brutally ripped apart. Now Erestor seemed to have learned that feeling nothing at least didn't hurt.  
"They will only vanish if *you* allow them to."

Erestor frowned. "I don't know what that means … but I promise, if you will let me stay, this will not interfere with my work."

To say that Elrond was taken aback would be an understatement - he was quite effectively shocked. After what the youth had obviously been through (as the marks of the elven sickness clearly showed), Erestor expected them to hold it against him. For a moment Elrond seemed lost for words and he only pulled himself together when he saw Erestor steeling himself for rejection.

"Pen neth, I would never ever refuse to give shelter to someone in need - be it man, dwarf or elf. I will not send you away!  
But Erestor, we need to know who has done this to you. Thranduil needs to know this. Such a despicable crime must be punished … "

Elrond knew he was not really being fair, but the end justifies the means and so he continued after a moment "They might do it again."

But Erestor did not answer and behind him, Dírhael shook his head and his eyes pleaded with Elrond to let it rest.  
Still, Elrond tried two more times without success. Then he gave up. Maybe the young one only needed a little bit more time, although he doubted that.

The lord of Imladris sighed and turned to his advisor.

"He may stay here, and he may accompany you, but not to council meetings. Neither is he to know about the more delicate matters you are entrusted with.  
And don't ever refer to him as an employee or your assistant for that is illegal for someone so young; it would cause a scandal. He is your charge from now on and your responsibility. Unofficially or officially you have adopted him."

Dírhael nodded "Thank you, my lord. I will then officially adopt him, if this is agreeable to you, Erestor?"  
The young one nodded but stayed silent.

For one moment Elrond observed the quiet darkling. Did Erestor even realize what that meant, what Dírhael was offering him? Adopting the youth would not only make him a citizen of the Hidden Valley but also give him the rights of an Imladrian lord; for as Dírhael's son he would be counted among the lords of Imladris.

But then again, Erestor had more problems than his social status right now.

As Elrond send the two of them away he noticed that Erestor kept more to himself than before the meeting. He didn't search Dírhael's closeness in any way as he had done only half an hour ago. Elrond felt guilty for that and only hoped his advisor and friend would somehow manage to get through to his charge again.  
In time, Erestor would have to come to terms with what had happened to him. But Elrond felt that interference from his part would not be appreciated, neither by Erestor nor by Dírhael.  
He would speak with friend and counsellor later, when Erestor had had a chance to settle in.

Elrond slowly walked back behind his desk and sat down, reflecting on the meeting with Erestor. His pallor and coldness were clear signs of fading, but he did not understand why the youth refused to reveal his tormentor's names.  
He had not lied to him, Elrond would have noticed that but then again, Erestor had told him nothing come to think about it. He had wanted to hear a part of the youth's history in his own words to prove if the lad was telling the truth, but somehow Erestor had done exactly what was required of him so the lord of Imladris wouldn't insist.

Elrond decided he would have a talk with the Mirkwood guards.

* * *

Later that day Elrond walked to the training fields where his captain was training with some of his elder soldiers. Soon they would end the training and once again devote themselves to practicing with the younger guards or other duties; like Glorfindel whose attendance was required in a security meeting that afternoon with his second in command and his lord.  
But as Elrond wanted to talk to his captain in private and Dírhael would attend the meeting also, he wanted to speak to him before.

Elrond had just come into view of the sparring soldiers when Glorfindel already noticed him. Centuries ago, when he had just returned from Mandos he would have immediately terminated the fighting and expected his soldiers to respectfully greet their lord. After the first of such an occurrence and a highly embarrassed Elrond later he had learned that his lord neither wanted nor was accustomed to such attention and he had stopped that behaviour.  
Now they had been friends for a very long time and while he had quitted the 'lord' in private surroundings centuries ago, he still could not let go of all the customs he had gotten used to in Gondolin; Elrond was his lord and deserving of his respect and he would address him properly in public. It was as simple as that.

Glorfindel blocked his opponent's next blow and stepped back, indicating the end of the fight. Smiling, he bowed to his sparring partner and went to greet his lord and friend.

"My lord Elrond! It has been a long time since last you graced the training grounds with your presence. What brings you here? I have not forgotten time and our meeting?"

Elrond smiled and shook his head. "None of that, my friend, rest assured. I would like you to keep an eye on a new citizen, hailing from Mirkwood. An elf named Erestor. Dírhael has taken him under his wing: a friendly turn for some Mirkwood soldiers he feels indebted towards."

"You think him to be a threat, my lord?"

"I honestly don't know. I think he may not be totally honest about his past and he will be working with my chief advisor. You will understand that I'm not really comfortable with that: you know best, that even elves can be treacherous."

Glorfindel's face had turned into stone with the last sentence and Elrond immediately regretted his careless words. He was about to apologize as the blond interjected.

"I understand, my lord. I will have him observed."

Elrond nearly cringed and bit his lip. He had not wanted to cause his friend pain. "Thank you. I'll see you at the meeting."

And he turned and walked towards his office, leaving behind the ancient warrior deeply lost in memories of fire and screams.

* * *

This very evening Glorfindel set two of his soldiers on Dírhael's little charge: Arveldir and Tauron. He trusted them to keep quiet and they were good guards. Still it did not bode well for a free realm like Imladris if her citizens were being observed, but Glorfindel agreed with Elrond that they should not take the risk of a spy roaming free in the last homely house.

Glorfindel himself went to the library two days later after dinner, knowing Dírhael was likely to have returned there after taking dinner in the privacy of his rooms. He wanted to talk with Elrond's chief advisor and maybe get to know Erestor to see for himself if the young ellon posed a potential threat.

He pushed the heavy library doors open and entered the dimly lit hall full of high bookshelves and reading tables; in front of him stood a scrawny young ellon with midnight black hair. He stood with his back towards the intruder and seemed to take notes of the books towering in the large shelves before him. When Glorfindel entered, the ellon whirled around, spilling half of the ink and pressed his back into the shelf behind him.

'Valar, he is beautiful' Glorfindel thought to himself. The young ellon looked like a black frightened cat ready to strike, the dim light softening his features and hiding the fact that he was maybe a little bit too thin for his age.

Glorfindel had always relied on his instincts and now he was taken aback for he knew that this ellon would play an important role in his life. One day he would be a beauty to behold and the golden lord knew he would fall for this darkling if he did not guard his heart well.

Still taken aback by his feelings Glorfindel raised his hands in an effort to calm the frightened youth. "I am sorry; I did not mean to scare you."

The black haired pursed his lips, obviously affronted.  
"You did not scare me, lord Glorfindel; you startled me, that is all."

Glorfindel quirked an eyebrow to both: that he had not been frightened (the youth was still trembling slightly) and that he knew his name. For the Captain of Imladris neither wore official garments nor his uniform but casual brown leggings and a blue tunic.  
"How did you know?" he asked with a smile. Erestor only graced him with an are-you-that-stupid-look and explained in a matter of fact "Your hair, the brooch."

Glorfindel cocked his head. He had never heard anyone address him with so little respect. He was a lord after all, not to mention his past deeds.  
But it was true, he had not thought about his brooch -a gift from his cousin Galadriel. It was a beautiful fine-crafted piece of jewellery with the insignia of his house in Gondolin, the golden flower, embedded in it.

"You do not talk much, do you, little one?"  
"Neither am I one for mindless prattle nor am I little – not physically and certainly not intellectually; I would appreciate it if you would not refer to me as such."

Glorfindel smiled amused. Once again the young ellon seemed like a cat to him - a teeth baring one. "I am most sorry if I have offended you, forgive me, *my young lord*."

Erestor nearly cringed at the gentle reprimand. Lord Glorfindel usually emanated a serenity that gave the impression of a man who did not care much about the opinion of others. Of course it was his own fault but he hated the fact that he had been put in his place by the famous balrog slayer.

Erestor bowed his head before meeting Glorfindel's eyes. "No, I must apologize, my lord. I didn't mean to lash out on you. It was disrespectful and uncalled for. Please excuse me now, lord Glorfindel, I have to clean up the mess I caused or I will be in trouble."

The moment that the blond nodded Erestor hurried out of the room.  
Glorfindel shook his head at the insolence of youth and approached the shelf the young ellon had pressed himself against. Erestor had seemed very nervous. Maybe he had interrupted something? But he was sure, Erestor had not been able to hide something in his robes, he would have seen that. So Glorfindel searched for any documents worth hiding. But he had only just begun to leaf through the various books about herbs and medical tinctures when he was suddenly disturbed.

"Can I be of assistance, Glorfindel?" The captain inwardly cursed.

"No, thank you, Dírhael."

"Have you seen Erestor?" asked the chief advisor with a small frown.

Glorfindel grinned "If Erestor is that scrawny, brutally honest and totally disrespectful black-haired youth that spilled ink all over the floor, then yes."

Dírhael sighed, already becoming annoyed at his old friend. "You frightened him ..." he accused, the blonds grin only widened. "No I didn`t. Your charge was adamant about only having been startled a little bit."

Elrond's chief advisor gave the blond ellon his sternest look, just as Erestor returned with water and a cloth.  
"Lord Dírhael, I am sorry for all the mess I caused. I will clean up immediately. But I am almost finished with the inventory of the phytology section. It seems that two books are missing. I have just been starting to search the shelves for the second time, but I have yet to find them. I have listed the books that need mending."

Dírhael smiled. "I'm not angry Erestor. Just clean up. And I wouldn't be too worried about those books, pen dithen."  
Glorfindel grinned widely at the darkling who was grinding his teeth at being called 'little one' when he had just told the blond lord not to; but aside from that Erestor was doing a good job in ignoring the famous balrog slayer. If Dírhael noticed the little wordless exchange, he didn't comment on it.  
"Elrond sometimes takes them to the healing wing if he has need of a recipe. He often lacks the time to have them copied for him let alone to do it himself."

The chief advisor then took Imladris captain by the elbow, effectively manoeuvring him towards his own study.

* * *

"He is making a potion?"  
Glorfindel rubbed his temple. He had just gone to bed when Tauron, the younger one of the two guards observing Erestor, had knocked on his door. Now he stood in his antechamber with the young soldier, listening to his report.

"Yes, my lord. He went to the healing wing about half an hour ago and towards lord Elrond's labour. He started a fire and well ... is making a potion in there right now."

It seemed that Mirkwood plague had already started to cause trouble - not even three weeks after his arrival.

The Mirkwood guards had left some days ago, leaving behind a very silent and quiet Erestor. It had been the only time he had seen the young one show real emotions besides the little outburst of fear in the library. The Mirkwood elves had bid Erestor farewell in the privacy of the young elf's rooms. Then the group had made their way towards the courtyard, where lord Elrond would see the visitors off.  
Glorfindel had been on his way to the courtyard himself, when he saw the Mirkwood elves entering the hallway from the opposite direction. He had been about to greet them, when he saw a small dark figure rushing past the group of elves and throwing himself into Thalion's arms. He had heard Erestor sob and plead with his friends to not leave. As the Mirkwood elves had tried to calm the young ellon, he had silently left, giving them some moments alone.

Glorfindel had then joined Elrond and told him that the Mirkwood party would be delayed for a few minutes which had earned him a curious look. He had whispered only for his lord's ears: "Erestor does not take it well."  
Elrond had nodded with a sad expression and they had waited patiently for their guests to arrive and Elrond had sent them on their way with messages for king Thranduil and his best wishes for their journey.  
Ever since then, Erestor had been barely talking to anyone and even his joyful friend Dírhael had been in a dark mood. Hence his habit to call the young ellon 'Mirkwood plague'.

Glorfindel always smiled to himself, when using that nickname. Maybe that was his shrewd way of 'guarding his heart'.

"I'm coming. And please fetch Dírhael."

* * *

Ten minutes later Glorfindel was quietly walking towards Elrond's labour, his soft leather boots not making any sound on the cold stone floor. He stood before the wooden door, listening to any sound coming from within but there was only the soft crackling of fire.  
One moment he hesitated. To be in Elrond's labour in the middle of the night did not bode well. That alone could be causing many problems for the young one. He did not believe that Erestor was intending to harm someone, but still.  
Slowly he opened the door, revealing a dim lit large room. The walls were covered with large shelves containing various supplies that Elrond used. There was willow bark against pain, sage, chamomile, birch leafs, henbane, wolfs bane and many more. Because of the toxic effects of some of the ingredients like wolfs bane and because of Elrond's expensive instruments, only few had keys to this room - a fact only adding to Erestor's current problems of having entered without permission.

When spotting the young ellon sitting in front of the fire, he stilled and crossed his arms, patiently waiting for the boy to notice him.

Erestor seemed even paler than he had been in the library, his complexion grey and unhealthy. The young one crouched before the ember in the fireplace, both arms folded around his knees on which his head rested. Long moments passed while Erestor remained in this position – unaware of the amused captain standing only meters away.

Eventually Glorfindel gave up and cleared his throat to get Erestor's attention.

If it wouldn't have been so much fun, he would have felt bad for startling the youth like he did: Erestor stood so promptly that his circuit collapsed and he had to clasp the table behind him to prevent himself from falling. Glorfindel rushed forward and steadied the young ellon.

"Easy Erestor!" He waited for the young ellon's fear filled face to turn towards him. At least Erestor had the decency to be ashamed, even if this would not help him much. "You know that you're in a mess? What, pray tell me, are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"ERESTOR!" Dírhael rushed into the room towards his charge. "What is this all about? What by Eru and the fourteen Valar are you doing here?"

"I just ... I ... I didn't want to ..."

"Why did you do that, Erestor? I gave Elrond my word, I vouched for you!"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. For being Elrond's chief advisor, Dírhael had the habit to rush things and he definitely was a tad too dramatic. There were certainly more important things than giving the young one a tongue-lashing, even if he had earned it. So he interfered before Dírhael could go on.  
"Erestor, what is this potion you have been working on?"

The darkling looked to him, already wearing his stone mask and Glorfindel sighed. "It's for a dreamless sleep." He turned towards Dírhael. "I didn't ... please hîren. I promised to not let it interfere with my work."

Glorfindel knitted his eyebrows, wondering what nightmares Erestor could have that caused him to secretly make sleeping potions. He watched as the chief advisor drew his charge into a tight embrace - Erestor immediately growing rigid – and shook his head.

"Dírhael, might I suggest you bring him to his chambers and stay with him. I'll report to Elrond in the morning. I would advise you to make an appearance with Erestor, too. I don't think, Elrond will be amused about this little ... something here." he gesticulated to the small cauldron on the fire. "I'll go to bed, if you do not mind ..." And he exited the labour without another word.

* * *

The next morning, Glorfindel made sure to catch Elrond when he left his chambers to speak with him before Dírhael could. He then gave his lord and friend a detailed account of the past night's happenings, all the while studying his lord's feature.  
Elrond gave no sign of anger or surprise and patiently waited for Glorfindel to end his story. When his captain had recounted Erestor's explanation, Elrond sighed.

"I should have expected that. It would only be natural for him to have nightmares, after what he claims to have been through."

"And may I ask what exactly he has been through? Since two of my most trustworthy men observe him and I was made believe that he was a possible traitor ... maybe I should know what we are dealing with Elrond."

Elrond leaned back thoughtfully. Why not? He had never actually promised not to reveal anything, and Glorfindel deserved to know, after all.

"What he *has* been through or what he *says* he has been through? Because in this case that might be a huge difference."  
Elrond waited but Glorfindel just frowned at him.

"He claims that his family in Mirkwood abused him; that his cousin's and uncle raped him. He ran away, came across some border guards, who brought him here.  
But the more I think about it, the more doubts I have."

"You already told me of your doubts that day on the training fields. But may I ask about the reasons? If he has been fading ..."

"When I first met him, he had been eight and a half months with the soldiers and he still showed signs of the elven sickness."

"And?" Glorfindel pressed, when Elrond looked at him expectantly.

"And he would not have had the strength to cross half of Mirkwood without water, food or weapons, when eight months later - safe and among friends - he had still such strong fading marks."

When Glorfindel kept silent, thinking about his lord's revelation, Elrond proceeded.

"So I went to Thalion. He told me that the marks had already been there when they found him and that they had not diminished since. They should have, Glorfindel, they should have!

He is very intelligent, Glorfindel, that I do not doubt. There *are* some plants that could cause his pallor and his cold skin, and the rest could be acted. It's not that hard after all. And he never really told me himself what happened to him. If he would have flat-out lied to me I would have noticed but he only told his story to Thalion, who told it to his family and Dírhael, who recounted Erestor's tale to me.  
He could fake it all … or he is still traumatized and didn't realize that he is safe. Which is also a realistic possibility if he really was violated by those who should have protected, loved and cherished him. He might not trust us, or he suffers from the nightmares enough that his body and mind cannot heal ..."

"Why do you not speak with him again, see if he lies?"

Elrond shook his head. "Dírhael. He would have my head if I pressed Erestor further."

"But this is the perfect occasion. Erestor has done something illegal in order to suppress his nightmares. You, Elrond, are the best healer in Middle Earth. Who could help him heal his spirit if not you then who else? Tell Dírhael and Erestor that you will not charge him, if he accepts your help. They cannot possibly decline."

Elrond cocked his head and raised one single eyebrow in amusement "My dear Glorfindel of Imladris, maybe I should transfer you: from captain to advisor."

Glorfindel grimaced "I am not opposed to giving you my advice, Elrond, far from it, but I would prefer not to be confined behind a desk all day."

The lord of Imladris smiled "And it would be a waste to let a fine warrior and the best captain I could wish for decay in a stuffy study."

Valar, Elrond had not known that Glorfindel was able to blush that deeply. He grinned and stood. "Well then, I will have a talk with my chief advisor and his troublesome charge. I will see you at dinner?"

"Yes Elrond."

* * *

When Elrond entered his study Dírhael and Erestor were already waiting for him and both immediately stood. Elrond hid his good mood behind a grave expression and gave his chief advisor and the young ellon a short but sharp look. He rounded his desk without answering the words of greetings and set down, folding his hands on his lap and leaning back in his chair, waiting for an explanation.

"I see that you have already been informed."

Elrond nodded seriously but stayed silent.

"Has Glorfindel mentioned Erestor's motives?"

"Yes, he has." Smiling faintly at his long time friend, Elrond continued somewhat gentler. "But I would hear them from his lips, Dírhael. And I'd like to speak with him alone, mellonen."

Dírhael's eyes became wide and his body stiffened. For long moments he only sat there, wordlessly staring at his lord, whose eyes were trained on Erestor. Then he slowly stood and quietly said "I will wait outside then, my lord."

Elrond inwardly groaned, wondering about the wisdom in employing friends while his advisor left his lord's study, trying to have faith in his lord to make the right decision – and failing miserably. Elrond sighed; he would have to pacify his friend later.

All the while Erestor stood in front of Elrond's desk, his hands nervously playing with the hem of his sleeves. Long moments passed while he felt the silence building around him, suffocating him. He dared not to look at his lord, afraid what he would see and so he missed the gentle expression in the half elf's eyes.  
For a moment Elrond asked himself how this young ellon managed to manipulate him like that – he would nearly have gone to the youth to take him into his arms and reassure him that everything was all right, that he was forgiven. He wondered if Erestor knew exactly what he was doing or if the young one just was really that insecure behind that stone mask of his and if that was what provoked his protectiveness.

"Erestor? I told you I would never send anyone in need away. I told you, you could stay. Why did you not come to me, to ask for a sleeping potion? Why by the Valar did you force your entrance in my labour? There are reasons why only few people are allowed in there. And I am sure you knew it was illegal, stealing a key to a restricted area, mixing potions in the middle of the night."

"I did not steal a key. I used a lock pick."

That blunt answer earned him a snort.

"I did not want you to know that I needed a sleeping potion. I promised you my condition would not hinder me in my work." He said in a small voice.

"Erestor, this cannot go on like that."

Elrond nearly missed the whispered plea "Please do not send me back."

The lord of Imladris knitted his brow. Either the young ellon was really afraid or he was the most brilliant actor he had ever seen. The lord of Imladris observed his opponent closely. The young one's eyes were still trained on the ground and he seemed to concentrate on his breathing so as not to cry. The black waves of his hair shielded him partly from Elrond's gaze.  
Either way, now he had to put Glorfindel's plan into action. He rounded the desk, told Erestor to sit down and rearranged the other chair so he could seat himself directly in front of the young darkling.

"Will you look at me, Erestor? When I said that it could not go on like this, I did not mean that you had to leave Imladris. I meant that you have to face the ghosts of your past.  
And I will help you. If you need sleeping potions, so be it, I will give them to you ... controlledly ... but you cannot take them forever."

Erestor looked at him and Elrond could see the defiant expression in his eyes for only one moment before the youngster managed to hide it.

"I will not charge you for trespassing or thievery, but I want you to talk to me. I am a healer, Erestor, I will help you. If you want to stay, we will meet once a week. Dírhael can accompany us, if it makes you more comfortable. Are you agreeable to that?"

"Yes my lord. But I don't ... I can't ... I do not want to speak of how he … "

Huge black eyes turned towards the lord of Imladris, a haunted look in them that made Elrond shiver. After taking some steadying intakes of breath, Erestor cocked his head, his face completely void of emotions as if completely detached from reality. But his trembling voice betrayed his inner turmoil.

"He tied me down so that I would not be able to fight him ..."  
Tears ran down the pale cheeks "and he touched me and …"

A quiet sob shook Erestor's small frame and Elrond slid down to kneel before the youth so that he was at eye-level with the darkling. His arms closed around him, hugging him close against a firm chest. The young one clawed at his robe, drenching his shoulder with bitter tears while Elrond silently rocked Erestor forth and back.  
"Hush, pen neth, you do not need to tell more now. I will listen whenever you are ready, child. You are safe now, here with Dírhael and me. And whatever you need shall be granted to you. You need but ask."

Elrond was torn between relief and grief. Not only was the young one playing along without any problems, but he also could feel that he had not lied, so now Elrond knew that the youth had been truthful: he had been abused by his family. At the same time his heart went out to the elf before him. How he wished Erestor would confide in him, so that he could make sure, Erestor's family would be punished.

They stayed that way for long minutes until the tears subsided and Elrond drew back, grasping the slim shoulders to make Erestor look at him.

"You can decide, what you want to tell us and when and we will help you heal. But promise me, that you will come to Dírhael or me, if you have need of something, all right?

"I will."

Elrond smiled, the young one still looked pale and his dark eyes were red-rimmed from crying but he seemed extremely relieved also and much more alive than he had seemed the last time in his office.

"Now off you go, calm my chief advisor who is probably having a heart attack outside. Come to my office tomorrow after dinner."

Erestor actually smiled. Elrond was stunned how that simple gesture made the young one so much more approachable, almost beautiful; even with his swollen eyes and flushed cheeks.  
Eru, what was wrong with him? He was married to the most beautiful elleth in Middle Earth who had given him three wonderful children, and now he found himself attracted to an *elfling*. He would have to remind himself that Erestor was a patient, nothing more.

"I will be there, my lord."

* * *

When Elrond told his captain that afternoon that Erestor had told the truth, Glorfindel was not relieved, for it meant the beautiful young ellon had been at his relative's mercy for years. And although Elrond told him it would not be necessary to have Erestor observed anymore, Glorfindel decided to keep an eye on him and be Erestor's guardian for the years to come.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Phytology: study of plants, botany

tôr ~ brother  
rusc ~ fox  
pen neth ~ young one  
pen dithen ~ little one  
hîren ~ my lord  
mellon ~ friend  
mellonen ~ my friend  
ellon ~ male elf  
elleth ~ female elf  
ithilion ~ moon's son


	2. Moments In Time

**Author's Note:** Thanks Lady Minuialwen, I certainly will.  
The Bitter Glass was actually planned to be a prequel for another story I'm currently writing, but it grew out of proportion somehow so I decided to make it a 3-episode series. It's the very first fanfiction story I've ever written and I have been working on it for almost two years now and finished two of the three parts. I won't leave it unfinished!  
Just to caution you: this series is somewhat depressing in the beginning, but eventually it will have a happy ending, I promise.

**CHAPTER 2: Moments In Time**

* * *

Erestor worked hard to gain his lord's and Dírhael's respect and admiration. He only lived for his work and shunned every personal contact to other elves in Imladris.  
In those first years of Erestor's life in the Hidden Valley Glorfindel often berated those who would spread rumours' about the quiet ellon living with the chief counsellor, or talk behind his back. He warded off any suitors whom he thought had dishonourable motives (which naturally enfolded every ellon or elleth that would have approached Erestor to begin with) and otherwise kept his eyes peeled – but always from the background, unbeknown to Elrond, Dírhael and Erestor.

And Glorfindel found that defending Erestor was quite a task – he had not known the young one to be that successful in making enemies: nearly everyone disliked him because of his cold exterior and most thought it to be scandalous at best that the adoption by Dírhael had gained Erestor the title of a lord; the other advisors disliked him for his intelligence, his closeness to Dírhael (and more and more Elrond himself), for his blunt honesty and his dogmatic way to teach everyone around him, even his superiors and elders; the maids and servants disliked him because they thought him to be 'priggish' (mostly because he didn't speak with them - although to be honest he didn't speak to anyone he could avoid talking with); the guards disliked him because he was a scholar or because Glorfindel deemed them not good enough to pursue the pretty little thing, the musicians disliked him because Lindir did; and Lindir disliked him because the Mirkwood plague had dared to tell him he had been off a little bit and how to remedy it when he had heard the young minstrel play for the first time in the Hall of Fire . Unluckily young Lindir was the most promising musician from the lot of students and did not take such an insult lightly.

After a long private conversation, Glorfindel had at least persuaded the white haired elf to ignore the darkling and be done with it for the sake of everyone involved.  
How could one protect someone who was determined to make an enemy out of everyone he met?

But as time passed, Erestor lost the last marks of the elven sickness. He talked with Elrond and Dírhael but never told them much about his childhood. Their weekly 'meetings' consisted of small trips to the surrounding woods or conversations in the library or the gardens.  
What they gathered from his rare remarks about his former life was that his family had isolated him and for an unknown reason kept him a secret. Erestor had rarely been outside and therefore enjoyed their excursions and for a short time he almost seemed to be happy.  
But Elrond noticed that Erestor was never at ease in his company and as Erestor's health improved, they met less and less often until they ceased to meet in private entirely. Although Elrond missed the discussions with his friend and Erestor, this enabled him to spend more and more time with his wife and children and Dírhael was not opposed either, as he had seen that Erestor was always at unease around their lord.

* * *

Erestor had never told anyone the date of his birth, claiming that he had been reborn the day Thalion had found him. So it came that the 6th November was Erestor's birthday.  
On his tenth birthday he knocked on the door of Elrond's office, where the lord of Imladris was currently working with his chief advisor. When he entered, he wore not his usual black attire but a dark red robe that gave him a more approachable look, enhancing his pale beauty.

Elrond smiled at the young ellon.  
"Happy birthday, Erestor. I am glad to see you in something other than black. You look brilliant pen neth."

Dírhael chuckled when his charge groaned and rolled his eyes to hide his discomfort. Erestor had never learned to handle praises, no matter if they concerned his looks or his work.

"My lord Elrond, I only came to inform you that I have reached my maturity more than 3 months but less than ten years ago and that I could now be employed as an apprentice and that I would gladly accept, if I was offered an apprenticeship training position."

Both lords gaped open-mouthed at the young ellon. Dírhael was the first to recover and he immediately stood and hugged Erestor close.

"An apprentice my dear one? Ha, with your skills I would gladly make you my assistant!"

Elrond's face on the other hand showed a sad little smile. "You still do not trust us."  
He was referring to Erestor not wanting them to know the date of his birth and both of the other elves immediately knew what he meant.

Dírhael gave his friend a warning gaze, but Erestor was already looking at Elrond with that stone mask of his, that never seemed to leave his young features.

"That's not correct, my lord. I do trust you, and I trust in your sense of justice. And that's why I think you would be writing to king Thranduil the moment I gave you more information that could lead to my family's name."

An uncomfortable silence settled between the three elves. Only when Erestor averted his eyes Elrond spoke up again.  
"So you want to work for me? As an apprentice?"

"But Elrond, he has worked as my assistant for some time now – unofficially, that's true – but it would be a setback if he was to enter an apprenticeship now!"

Erestor shook his head "My lord, I want to *earn* my position. I know that many think me to be a cadger. I want to start as an apprentice like everyone else and not be promoted until I have merited it."

Elrond nodded knowingly, he had heard those whispered words. But they weren't the most malign ones: he had even heard some elves wondering if the handsome ellon earned himself the chief advisor's affection in his bed. He had taken the gossips aside and asked them for proof, knowing they had none. He had then given them a lecture about how low it was to drag the respectability and honour of an elf like Dírhael in the mud who would never ever take advantage of a youth like that and to judge Erestor, whom they did not know. He told them if he was ever to hear such a pack of lies from them again, they would face his wrath and send them on their way.  
It had helped a little bit, but it was hard to fight existing rumours.

The problem was that Erestor would have a hard time as an apprentice. To prove his worth to his instructors, the young elf would need to work harder than his contemporaries and achieve better results. He knew that Erestor was more than up to the challenge but it would be frustrating.

Dírhael laid a hand on his charges shoulder. "I am proud of you, you know?"

"It is settled then. I will speak with your instructors, Erestor. You may begin next Monday. But I will warn you: you will have a tough time, pen neth. And if you want to earn the others' respect, you will have to do this alone without me or Dírhael meddling. They will not be easy on you."

"I understand, my lord. I will not disappoint you."

"I'm sure you never will."

And he did not. Erestor proved to be more strenuous and ambitious than even Elrond or Dírhael had expected. When interacting with his instructors he was always polite and showed his eagerness to learn. But he was assertive and though he was willing to accept failure in the few cases that he found his own opinion to be wrong, he could discuss for hours if he deemed himself to be right, always with a slight smile and never raising his voice. Needless to say that this behavior did not gain him friends among his tutors, but it brought him forward and after only 68 years he became the youngest advisor ever in Imladris, reducing his apprenticeship by 32 years.

While his adoptive father achieved his goals with a polite discussion and arguments that cleverly turned around his counterparts' opinion, Erestor vigorously argued and silenced his opponents with logic. But little by little Erestor learned how to play the difficult game of scheming and intriguing within the council rooms. And while he got better in leading negotiations, he worked his way up until half a century later he had outrun all of his colleagues and achieved the position he had wanted all along: the position of Dírhael's substitute.  
At that time he was around 170 years – still no one knew for sure - and the youngest senior advisor of every elven realm in the history of Arda.

* * *

All the while Elrond watched with worry as his wife more and more distanced herself, growing silent and sometimes even depressed. He did his best to make her open up to him for he was sure that whatever plagued his Celebrían, they could overcome together. But the beautiful elleth only smiled, caressing her husband's cheek, saying that it was nothing he should worry about.

Elrond felt that they were growing apart. Not because of less love, for he could see Celebrían's love for him in her eyes. It shone as brightly as ever, but there was something else in those deep blue mirrors of her soul: a shadow that dimmed her light, a fear that he couldn't understand.  
More and more often Elrond found himself wandering the gardens brooding over the question of what was ailing his wife. Like this night.

It was a late summer evening. The sun had already set and the gruelling heat had given way to a milder, low wind. It always seemed to Elrond that the air of the warm summer days was too heavy, pregnant with moisture and overwhelming odours. He preferred the summer nights, when the air was filled with the soft smell of the roses in Imladris' gardens and nature itself seemed to be relieved to be rid of the suffocating warmth.  
But this night the dark soothing coolness bore no comfort for him as he wandered between the flower-beds his wife had helped plant and care for. He let his fingers glide over the petals of the champagne coloured roses, and he knitted his brows, taking a deep steadying breath.  
If only Celebrían would talk to him, but she was as stubborn as she was strong; she would solve her own problems, she always had. The elleth had just never understood that he needed to be there for her as she was there for him.

He could well remember when it had started. Not even a century after their marriage he had noticed that she had her dark secrets, that she was hiding something from him. At first it had been something vague and indistinctive and somehow he had missed the chance to address the matter before it became a real problem.  
The moment he had first noticed his wife's melancholia was when Arwen had been a small child, barely seven years old and he had observed his family in the garden.

**FLASHBACK**

Celebrían sat on the grass playing with her young daughter and every now and then she would look up to watch her sons fight with wooden swords with their weaponry teacher - Glorfindel. They were still young, but their skill with the sword was already considerable for that age. One day they would become great warriors. Not exactly a future, a mother wished for her sons, but it had always been their wish, and she would not hinder them.

She watched with amusement as her frustrated twin sons tackled the fabled lord of Gondolin. Glorfindel not even trying to defend himself in earnest fell to the ground with the boys above him, all three of them now laughing and rolling around in the grass.  
It was then that a shadow passed over her beautiful face, and she bit the insides of her lips so as not to shed tears.

"Nana?"

Celebrían turned to her daughter and immediately hid her darkening mood behind a beaming smile. "Come darling, let's save poor Glorfindel from your brothers, shall we?"

She helped her 7 years old daughter up and gave her a shove towards the scuffling ellyn. Arwen began running towards them crying "hold on, Glorfindel".

Celebrían smiled bitter-sweetly, as Elladan stopped immediately, catching his sister before she could throw herself on them and started to tickle her mercilessly.  
"You little traitor, you should be on our side!"

Glorfindel immediately joined in. Keeping Elrohír at bay he called out to the little princess "Hold on my lady. I will save you from those creations of evil!"

Elrond chose that moment to enter the gardens behind his office. He chuckled and laid his arms around his golden haired wife from behind and kissed her cheek.  
"Hello gorgeous."

She looked back and smiled lovingly, but Elrond could feel that she was troubled.  
"What ails you my sweet?"

"Nothing when you're here."

Elrond cocked his head but let it go for the moment."Shall we safe our poor balrog slayer, or shall we leave him to his destiny?"

Celebrían smiled to her husband and called her children. When they finally let go of the blond ellon, she excused herself to manoeuvre Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen towards the main house to take a bath before dinner, leaving Imladris` lord and his captain.

"They will be great warriors someday; and your daughter will be the best of them all, my lord!"

"Elrond."

Glorfindel grinned. "My lord Elrond, then."

Elrond only sighed, wishing the beautiful ellon would be more open towards him.  
Glorfindel of Imladris - former Glorfindel of Gondolin - was always civil, always open-minded and honest as far as he was concerned, but it seemed the balrog slayer kept himself at a distance, always keeping in mind, that Elrond was his lord. But Elrond would prefer a friend over a servant - especially Glorfindel. Not for the first time he asked himself, what would have happened, if he had met him before his marriage to Celebrían - and immediately berated himself for the disrespectful thoughts towards his wife.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

He had felt so guilty then for his feelings and thoughts but more and more he despaired. He had managed to truly befriend the golden lord but at the same time it seemed he had lost his wife.  
Elrond sighed and turned … and startled.

"Glorfindel, must you always sidle up to me like that?"

"I am sorry, Elrond. Bad habit, I know; Can't help myself." The small smile that played around Glorfindel's lips did not reach his eyes.

Elrond could not stop himself from staring into the blue eyes of his captain full of compassion and … worry? And when Glorfindel asked him to walk with him he could not refuse.  
For minutes they walked silently next to each other. Elrond knew what the blond elf wanted him to do and he needed to do it, but he wasn't ready yet. And so he enjoyed the Vanya's company, his best friend next to Dírhael.

"Haven't we called each other mellon for many a century now? Will you not let me help you?"

"Glorfindel, it's … a private matter." The lord of Imladris sighed.  
Glorfindel only smiled "All the better, if it wasn't, I would tell you to bother Dírhael with it."

Elrond looked at his captain. "You will keep on nagging until I tell you what you already know."  
The blond kept on grinning "So why don't you get it over with?"

"Sometimes I miss the quiet shy elf that could not stop lording me." Glorfindel was glad to see that the gentle bantering was lightening his friend's mood and he waited for Elrond to continue.  
"Something's bothering Celebrían, but she won't talk to me anymore."

Glorfindel kept quiet. He knew what plagued his lord and friend, but it was important for Elrond to speak the words for the sake of speaking them, so that he would know he was not alone with his problems – even when Celebrían felt she needed to be alone with hers.

"What am I to do, Glorfindel? I cannot force her to open up to me. The silence between us is growing and keeping us apart like upwelling fog until we won't be able to see each other anymore."

The blond ellon studied Elrond's face. His friend had knitted his features angrily, his mouth a thin line. There was bitterness. Glorfindel sighed. If he had meddled earlier it would have been easier to help.  
For one moment he asked himself if he had not wanted to help, if he had hoped to see them growing apart. He didn't know when he had fallen in love with the fabled Half-Elf, but it had happened. If Celebrían and Elrond broke up he would be free to …  
The balrog slayer chastised himself. He was not normally of an egoistic nature and he had known from the beginning that Elrond was out of reach. Never would he come between the two lovers; He loved Elrond and he would do everything to make him happy – and this included to make things right between Celebrían and him.

Glorfindel left the path, sitting down below an old, gnarled ash tree and motioned for Elrond to join him.  
Then he waited for the half-elf to make himself comfortable next to him.

"She loves you, Elrond. Never doubt that. Maybe she does not want to add to your burden: Vilya, Imladris …"

"I do not doubt it. I can feel it in her touch, I can see it in her eyes. It's … " he looked at his captain "I … I do not doubt that she loves me."  
The Half-Elf felt so miserable and just saying his problems, making them real by naming them, evoked a deep sense of despair and hopelessness in his heart and he could not stop the bitter tears from leaving his eyes.

"Elbereth, Elrond, please …" Glorfindel sat up to kneel in front of his friend and secret love and his hands moved on their own volition taking Elrond's face between them. Tears always made him helpless, and Elrond's tears pained him more than he could bear. He leaned his forehead against Elrond's.

"She loves you, Elrond. That is the most important thing. It will work out, just give her time."

Glorfindel felt Elrond move his head but still he wasn't prepared to feel lips on his. It was only a light, fleeting touch but still he pulled back immediately as if burned. His heart hammering madly, he focused on the grass at his side, not willing to meet Elrond's eyes while he could still feel the soft lips, could nearly taste the Half-Elf.

Elrond felt a pang of guilt rushing through his chest. "Glorfindel, I am so sorry, I did not mean to …"

"It's okay, Elrond. Nothing happened." But Glorfindel was hurt, hurt that the friend he had desired for so long excused himself so quickly. He had hoped that Elrond would not have done it just out of desperation, that his secret love had felt what he had felt. The captain closed his eyes.

"Glorfindel, really …"

"Do not complicate it further, Elrond. We have been friends for centuries; one single imprudence doesn't change this." Oh how he wished it to be a lie.

For long moments they sat side by side, using the time to affirm each other with silent, comforting closeness that the last minute's happenings had not changed their friendship - both unaware of the pair of blue eyes that watched them from the main house. And with a quite sob, Celebrían turned from the window towards her and her husband's bedchamber.

* * *

After this, Celebrían was even more depressed until she heeded her daughter's advice to spend some time in Lóriën. Both mother and daughter had always felt at peace in the Golden Wood and even if Arwen knew nothing of her mother's grief, she hoped that a prolonged stay beneath the golden leaves of the mallyrn would do her good. It was agreed that she would accompany the party of advisors on their next diplomatic visit two weeks hence, Dírhael accompanying her.

After the decision was made, Celebrían's mood lifted considerably and Elrond grew hopeful that his wife's upcoming journey and her mother's wise council would help her overcome the problems she could not address with him.

As for Glorfindel ... the balrog slayer was not sure what to make of it. The captain had felt the lady's eyes on him more than once, had felt her stare. She was not discourteous towards him, far from it. But maybe she was just trying a little bit too hard and Glorfindel was not sure if the beaming smile that she directed towards him was true, it did not seem to reach her eyes. He could only hope the lady had not witnessed Elrond's and his little escapade.  
He and his cousin Galadriel had crossed the Helcaraxe together and they had long been friends; but he did not doubt the lady of the Golden Wood would give him a very painful return to Mandos, should she come to the opinion that he had seduced her daughter's husband. And he loved his life too much to die a second time.

When Imladris people came together in the courtyard to see their lady off, they saw Celebrían in high spirits. The silver queen held her head high with a proud and serene expression on her fair features as she embraced her husband and children.

"Do not fret. I will be back next summer. Elladan watch out for your siblings and keep out of mischief for your father's sake, all three of you." And she kissed them good-bye before she turned to her husband.

"I love you, Elrond." She whispered in his ear as she embraced him. It felt good to be in his arms even if she knew that this would probably be the last time. She had made her decision: Imladris would never be her home again. But saying the final words was too hard right now. And she needed her parents' guidance and council.  
"Whatever will happen in the future, husband, I will always love you."

Elrond stared at her when she pulled back smiling. Her words sounded like a portent to him. "I love you, too. Always have and always will." He tried to smile when she took her leave.

And so it was that Celebrían left for Lóriën, the land of her father and mother, in the summer of the year 2509, Third Age. But she would never reach the Golden Wood.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

pen neth ~ young one  
mellon ~ friend  
ellon ~ male elf  
elleth ~ female elf


	3. Broken

**CHAPTER 3: Broken**

* * *

Celebrían rode next to Dírhael. She was glad for his company, it had always soothed her. Although they could not talk openly about the reason of her journey because of the guards and other diplomats who accompanied them, he had managed to distract her throughout the journey and the lonely evenings at the fire.

The silver queen watched her companion. Dírhael wore a heavy burgundy cloak that shielded him from the icy winds. She smiled at how uncomfortable he looked. Dírhael was not used to travelling: since Erestor had entered his life slightly less than four hundred years ago he had not left Imladris. Well, this little trip would do him good. Seeing something other than Elrond's little valley.

Elrond had probably begged him to go to keep an eye on her. Originally it had been intended that only a small party with only one ambassador would make the difficult journey, but when she decided that she would go, Elrond's chief advisor had volunteered to accompany her and so the party had grown. Dírhael told her that he could use the opportunity to speak to lord Celeborn about the travelling routes; he had always been a bad liar, but still she appreciated the effort.

She pulled her warm cloak closer when she imagined what Dírhael would say if she broke up with Elrond. Celebrían knew that the advisor respected her, but he was Elrond's friend and he knew that it would hurt the Half-Elf tremendously. But she grinded her teeth: Elrond had hurt her, too, by kissing the balrog slayer.

But Celebrían did not want to think about that right now. It had cost her much strength to accept what her mother had foretold her hundreds of years ago. It would do her no good if she kept on lingering in the past. So she concentrated on her travel companion once again.

"You seem a little bit tense my dear lord Dírhael." Celebrían remarked grinning.

Dírhael shot her a deathly glance that had her laughing out loud. "I hate riding. It's uncomfortable. And it's cold, I think it will start to snow any moment and the wind is driving me insane. But aside of that … I am well."  
He sighed when the lady of Imladris only kept on laughing. "And I wonder how Erestor is doing. It's the first time that he has to fill in for me. Not that I would not think him up to the task but you know that the others dislike him. He will have a hard time."

"He will manage. But when you return you will probably have to cope with many complaints and one or two resignations."

"Well, for one or two of my 'colleagues' it would be about time to …"

Suddenly a scream ripped the cold clear air a black feathered arrow bored it's shaft into the advisor's throat. Time stood still for a moment, Celebrían's mouth still standing open in shock. She reached out for the friend she had known since she first set foot on Imladris' beautiful land, as if in trance, slowly. But the brunet fell sideward to the ground and only then reality set in and the silver queen sprang from her white stallion and went down to the ground next to Dírhael, trying to stay behind the horse so as to protect her from the arrows.

Helplessly she watched as the advisor squirmed stertorously in the snow, colouring it with his blood. In that very instant she realized that he would die no matter what she did. Dírhael was slowly suffocating from his own blood and the gargling sound that he made horrified her even more than the panicked and pained look in his wide eyes.

Celebrían looked up to the hillside to her left where dozens of Orcs came sliding down towards them bawling and cheering in their terrific ugly speech. Panicking she left the dying advisor to his fate and tried to mount her horse again. But somehow the stirrup escaped her feet and she looked up again with rising fear, seeing the dark mass of bodies climbing and running nearer. 'Saes, Elbereth, saes!'  
Finally Celebrían managed to mount the dancing horse and the animal immediately reacted, breaking into a full gallop.

She heard one of the guards screaming her name. The others had already covered not short a distance. One of the warriors waited on the bend they had passed only minutes ago. Breathing heavily already, she held onto that sight, trying to reach the ellon.  
But then an arrow hit her stallion and she was thrown as the poor beast collapsed. The snow cushioned her fall but when she looked up again she cried out in desperation: The guard was gone and behind her the foul creatures came nearer, snarling and laughing. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks; she was lost.

* * *

Erestor stood behind his desk in Dírhael's and his office. The room was capacious with large curved windows facing the courtyard as it was situated opposite of Elrond's office. Dírhael had chosen the furnishings himself and as always had shown his sense for décor in the process. The desks and cupboards out of cherry wood were beautifully carved and the matching arm chairs were cushioned with dark red velvet and had only been upholstered the year before.

Few personal items were seated on the chief advisor's desk: presents from Glorfindel, Elrond and of course Erestor could be seen on the polished surface like the silver bordered inkwell Erestor had presented him with two years after his arrival.  
Erestor's desk bore no personal items, he deemed them distracting.

The chief advisor's second let one hand rest behind the small of his back, the other was held in front of his stomach in a loose fist. His cold and stern gaze was directed at one of his fellow advisors. A senior advisor much older than himself but still Erestor held a higher position. Nonetheless the elder elf had always defied him and Erestor's patience was growing thin.

"I told you to have the abstract ready for me, Faelon."

"And I told you that this is not one of my duties, I am senior advisor not some assistant!"

"You do not have the liberty to choose your duties, advisor!" Erestor's voice was like ice. "If a message contains confidential information it will not be given to 'some assistant'. If you find your duties inacceptable you are free to go. You are lucky that I read the messages from Mirkwood myself and am able to give Elrond a sufficient outline. The messenger leaves tomorrow; we need to formulate an answer until then. This time I am able to cover for you. But next time you find yourself incapable of fulfilling your duties I expect your resignation."

His opponent glared at him but was intelligent enough not to argue – for now.

Erestor turned towards the windows. "You may …" His voice died away until it was nothing more than a whisper "… go."

Faelon watched in bewilderment as the dark elf turned again, a shocked expression on his face, and ran towards the door. "Elrond!" he screamed and rushed into his lord's office. "lord Elrond!"

The lord of Imladris looked up, surprised at the sudden disruption. Right in front of him hurried his chief advisor's substitute into his office, his dark blue robes whirling around him. Erestor gestured towards his office, pale and shocked – a very rare vision.

"Erestor, what … ?"

"Elrond, the party to Lóriën …" The lord paled and hasted past his advisor into the opposite room. Arriving at the window he gasped, turned and ran towards the courtyard, Erestor at his heels.

Bewildered by this unusual display of discomposure, Faelon approached the large windows and looked out to the courtyard. At first he did not realize what had caused all the agitation, the lady's party was not there: neither Celebrían nor Dírhael. But then he saw one of Dírhael's assistants who had been travelling to Lóriën, too. And for a moment his heart missed a beat.

When Elrond and Erestor arrived in the courtyard, the lord's children were already there. Arwen came running towards her father, sobbing hard "Ada, naneth … they took her."  
Elrond pulled her into a tight embrace, knitting his brow in an effort to stop the frightened tears that he spilled nonetheless. In his arms his daughter shook and cried; then a strong hand clasped his shoulder to offer comfort. Glorfindel stood before him, framed by his sons.

"Elrond, your wife has been captured by Orcs when her party tried to cross the Redhorn pass. They stood no chance. Dírhael was slain and three of the ten guards."

Elrond blinked his tears away, trying to understand what his captain was telling him. Meanwhile, somehow completely unnoticed, Erestor's face had become a ghostly pale and totally blank, a white marble mask. Distant he seemed as if he had entered another reality, one where there was no such terror. With the utmost care he straightened his robes and treaded into the main house again, towards his office to answer king Thranduil's messages, which would surely not be tended to by lord Elrond in the current situation.

In the courtyard Elrond gave instructions for a search and rescue party which would be led by his sons Elladan and Elrohír. It helped him against the desperate fear and helplessness he felt within his chest and two hours later he watched with his daughter and Glorfindel at his side how the party rode off towards the Misty Mountains.

"Elbereth hear my plea, Manwë see my need! Don't let them be too late … bring her back." And finally Elrond let his tears flow freely along with those of Arwen.

* * *

The great hall was empty that evening – not with people: they sat at their usual places at the large wooden tables, waiting for the dinner to be served. But it was empty nonetheless: there was no laughter, no smiles, no chattering; it was void of happiness. Four of the chairs at the main table were empty: Celebrían's, Dírhael's, Elladan's and Elrohír's. And the thusly caused vacuum pulled at the hearts of the assembled elves and left them shattered.

When dinner was served Elrond stood. He did not need to speak up to draw attention for the silence was deafening.

"As you know, the party to the Golden Wood has been waylaid, my wife kidnapped and four brave and noble elves slain: Berion and Haradion who already partook in the battle against the Witchking in 1975 and Aglaron who was too young to have seen enough of Middle Earth to leave it just yet in a way like this … and Dírhael; my chief advisor and true and loyal friend. I have known him since before the founding of our beautiful valley and he was one of the most generous and compassionate elves I have ever met. They all will be sorely missed."  
Elrond lowered his head as the tears he had hold back until know welled up. Forcing them back he took a calming breath. "To our loved ones who went ahead to the Undying Lands!"

He waited for his people to stand and raise their glass to the ones that had not returned. For one minute they stood in silence, praying for Námo to show them the way to his halls.  
"We have lost dear friends and loved ones, and I fear for one more: my wife, who might be still alive. Let us pray for those trying to safe her. May Elbereth hear our pleas in this dark hours, may the Valar protect them!" Speaking the last few words, his voice broke and he lowered his head so as not to show his tears. But there were many who cried that evening for the loss of the chief advisor and the soldiers who had been well loved and they cried for the lady Celebrían, the very heart and soul of Imladris.

Later that evening it was announced that Erestor, son of Dírhael was now appointed chief advisor of Imladris. There was no polite applause, no smiles but more than one glare and many a malicious whisper.  
Glorfindel would take the duties of the seneschal, supported by the new chief advisor.

Elrond had wanted to speak to Erestor for the loss of his father must weigh heavy on his slender shoulders but when dinner was over his new chief advisor immediately stood and hurried away to his chambers before anyone could hinder him and after the day's straining events Elrond lacked the strength to follow him: Remembering how reclusive the darkling was, he kept Glorfindel back, too. Erestor needed time to come to terms with his father's death, not two nagging elves he didn't trust.

* * *

When Elrond entered his study the next day he saw Erestor working through some papers. The dark elf looked up, a hollow expression in his nearly black eyes. He had obviously not been to his chambers all night long: he had not changed his robes since the previous day and the dark shadows below his eyes proved that he had not slept.

"Good morning my lord. I have attended to all pressing matters; you need only sign the message to Mirkwood if you will. I can cover for you, my lord, if you would prefer to comfort the lady Arwen …"

"Erestor."

"… she would need her father close, I think."

"Erestor!"

The advisor blinked and stared into his lord's face. But he needed some moments before he managed to hide the emotional turmoil he was in behind that cold mask.

"Have you slept at all, Erestor?" Elrond had expected the silence but nevertheless he sighed tiredly when his advisor kept quiet. "I want you to go to your chambers, take a warm bath and sleep. If you find yourself unable to, then go to my labour … you know where the sleeping draughts are."  
Elrond knew that he should be a little bit more compassionate but he felt so drained. He had not slept either for fear and grief, somehow feeling guilty for being able to sink into a soft mattress, hiding below warm white blankets, while his wife was out there in the hands of Orcs.

"I will when I finished today's work my lord."

Elrond sighed. He took the younger elf by the shoulders and tried to manoeuvre him towards one of the armchairs so as to speak to him but Erestor flinched away.  
"Don't!" He spoke tartly.

The lord took a step back to pacify his new chief advisor but watched him with serious concern. Never had Erestor shied away from a simple touch like that, not even when he had first entered this valley.  
"You will at least go to your chambers, change and rest for a few hours. Then you may return to your work, chief advisor."

Erestor gasped at the mention of his new title and looked away.

"As you wish. The message to Mirkwood is on your desk. If you sign it now I will hand it to the messenger, before I retire.  
Do you want me to send word to the Golden Wood or do you want to wait for … your son's return?"

"I will write a message for one of our carrier pigeons. They ought to know, they are her parents after all."

"As you wish, my lord." Erestor bowed then waited for Elrond to read through his message to King Thranduil. When his lord nodded and gave him leave to send it to Mirkwood, he turned but was stopped by his lord.

"I spoke to the survivors. His death was swift, Erestor. He probably died not even realizing that they were attacked."  
Elrond had felt the need to calm the young advisor, who tried to help him by taking over his responsibilities but unknowingly he pushed him further away with his words.

Within a second, Erestor's face, previously full of grief and pain, hardened and cooled into the well known marble mask, his mouth becoming a thin dangerous line, contorted only slightly with well concealed disgust. "You need not lie to me, my lord." Erestor said in a clipped tone that clearly told Elrond that he had overstepped personal boundaries.  
"I spoke with them myself; they were nice enough to tell me that Dírhael choked on his own blood, having been hit in the throat by an arrow. I know that drowning or choking is a very painful death and I can imagine that having an arrow in your throat doesn't make it any better. If that is all, my lord ..." Erestor did not wait for an answer and turned around.

The lord of Imladris was shocked at so much bitterness and cruelty. Maybe lying to Erestor had not been the best approach but to tell the young ellon the brutal truth about his adoptive father's death was nothing less than cruel. And the worst was that he could imagine that the culprits had found some sick delight in their game.  
Dírhael had been Erestor's only confidant. The young one had no one else, no one to comfort him and help him through his grief. Now that he had lost him he was completely alone once more.

"No, Erestor. Sit!"

The black haired ellon clenched his teeth and turned to sit once more.

"I am sorry Erestor, sorry for your loss." 'and that I lied to you' his mind continued.

"My lord Elrond, with all due respect: I am your employee and I will perform my duties. Besides that I would like for my private live to stay just that: private."

"I would have thought that there was more than a labour relation between us."

"I was the adoptive son of one of your friends, my lord. That friend is dead."  
That stung. Dírhael was – nay had been – not just a friend, he had been his closest companion next to Celebrían and Glorfindel and the only one whom he could trust with everything.  
And Erestor was being his considerate self, with his cold pragmatic demeanour. Still he was not angry with the young ellon, merely hurt. He still had his family ... Erestor had nothing.

"He was my best friend next to Glorfindel, Erestor and I knew him much longer than you did. So let me tell you this: he would not have wanted you to seal yourself off like that.  
Once I told you I would listen whenever you are ready. That offer still stands."

For one short moment Elrond thought to have seen something like longing in the black eyes, and … guilt? But then the expression was gone and the lord of Imladris was not sure to have seen it at all.

"He is dead, my lord. Can I take my leave now?"  
The Half-Elf wondered what exactly Erestor meant with that statement. Dírhael was dead and Erestor's actions did not concern him anymore, did not matter anymore? Or he was dead and whatever Erestor did would not bring him back or make the fact more bearable? Or maybe something different …

Elrond nodded and the advisor stood. He just didn't know how to reach the dark ellon and during the next years Erestor would brush off Elrond's and Glorfindel's attempts to console him and made it clear that he did not appreciate them meddling into his private life. And so they gave up and settled for watching the quiet councillor.

* * *

The next two weeks proved hard for everyone in Imladris. Elrond tried to be there for his daughter and simultaneously not to lose his mind in doubt and fear whereas Arwen tried not to burden her ada further – which led to more misunderstandings and more loneliness for both of them.  
Glorfindel tried to hold things together and perform his duties with so many guards now absent. And Erestor was seen to carry out not only his duties, but Dírhael's duties and some of Elrond's, too. And of course he prepared everything for the burial of the four elves which had been delayed in the hope that the party led by Elrond's sons would find something to bury. Orcs were known to eat what they killed – be it dwarf, human or elf – and not to leave much besides raw bones; sometimes not even that for they fed the leftover to their wargs.

The new chief advisor buried himself in work, surpassing every expectations and running Imladris as smoothly as ever. But in the face of his own father's death he never cried just once. In fact his public demeanour had not changed at all and only Glorfindel and Elrond noticed that the dark ellon was indeed grieving.

But the other advisors – mainly the senior advisors led by Faelon – disliked their superior even more because of his 'disrespect' towards their former chief advisor. More than ever they wondered why Dírhael had taken the cold Erestor under his wing and once again it was cause of much gossip in Imladris. But this time Glorfindel was occupied with his duties and when he was not in the forests around Imladris helping the patrols and waiting for news of the search party or on the training fields he tried to enliven Erestor and Elrond, never listening to idle gossip.

It was at the weekly council meeting three weeks after the survivors had ridden into Imladris' courtyard when Erestor first heard the ill-natured comments whispered behind his back.

Those meetings were normally held by the chief advisor to discuss problems and arrange duties and of course Erestor supervised not too patiently how the tasks he had assigned his staff the week before had been fulfilled.

His passive but cold gaze had been directed towards one of the younger trainees, one of Faelon's students. The blond ellon had been instructed to draw up the monthly balance sheet and to present mentionable differences to the council. Both had not happened so the junior advisor found himself the centre of Erestor's intense stare which was directed at him until the young one's flood of words and excuses tumbled and ceased.

Then Erestor directed his gaze towards Faelon but he addressed his student.

"I gave you this assignment for educational reasons. You were to consult your instructor if need arose. Did you?"

The young ellon stayed silent, his gaze directed to his instructor as if waiting for something, for support or permission maybe.

"I see. Faelon, the two of you will stay after the meeting. Now …" Erestor looked to his notes for a moment when everything went deadly silent. He felt his throat tighten and raised his head.  
"What did you say?"His voice was not more than a whisper but clearly audible in the quiet chamber.

Faelon met his eyes but did not reply.

Erestor slowly cocked his head and stood gracefully and proud, his notes still in his hands. "You do not want to answer?" he said in his most polite and yet most threatening tone.

Had the elder ellon observed his superior a little bit more, he maybe would not have replied: Erestor's hand had clasped his notes that tightly that the fine paper crumpled under his fingers and his hands shook, even though his face was completely void of emotions.  
But the senior advisor hated his opponent, and he had had enough of being subservient before a mere child. And so Faelon raised his chin defiantly. "I said" he rolled the words around in his mouth like a delicacy, relishing their taste. "At least he did not need to use his body's charms to earn his position."

For a moment the silence became deafening, oppressive. Fearful the advisors cast hidden glances at each other as the room darkened. It was not a lingering shadow but rather as if something swallowed all the light, leaving only the chief advisor dimly illuminated, his body seemingly growing terrifically. For the fracture of a second Faelon could have sworn to see the advisor's grey eyes blazing up, burning with a cold blue-white fire.  
Then as fast as it had arisen the moment was gone. There in the middle of the council chambers stood the chief advisor, not exactly tall but proud and upright. He held himself like a real lord, Faelon thought, not like the bastard that he was.

"You mean I entered the bed of my adoptive father Dírhael to gain his favour and a high position or are you implying that our respected lord Elrond bedded a minor? For I was when I entered this valley."  
He waited but Faelon did not reply. This battle was lost, fighting would only make it worse, especially since he would have had to insult either Elrond or Dírhael to do so.

"I have heard enough. You may go Faelon; and never dare to return to this council. I expect your letter of cancelation on my desk tomorrow. Know that if I do not find it there, you will be dismissed." Erestor's face was cold and hard like ice and his voice like poison. And when Faelon had left he addressed the other advisors with the same venomous tone. "If anyone of you has similar problems or otherwise thinks himself incapable of working with me he is free to go under the same conditions as lord Faelon."

Erestor subjected every attendee of the meeting to his stare but only two of the other senior advisors stood, glaring at him, and left the room.

The chief advisor sighed and his dangerous demeanour gave way to his usual calm self. "I apologize for the unfortunate argument you had to witness. But I will not let anyone talk this disrespectful about noble elves such as Dírhael or lord Elrond.  
I am confident that we shall work well together and I hope for your support in the next few weeks. Lord Elrond needs our help and we cannot allow childish behaviour like this to interfere with our duty towards our lord in such dire times. Shall we continue now?"

The rest of the meeting was carried out with an unusual efficiency and concentration from all the remaining elves – mainly because everyone was trying to get away from the uncomfortable company of the chief advisor. When Erestor finally dismissed them they all hurried out of the room – to spread lively stories about how Erestor had fired three senior advisors.  
All the while Erestor stood with his back turned towards the retreating elves. He waited until he heard the steps of the last few elves trail off in the distant corridors. Then a white, shivering hand moved of his own volition over his mouth to stifle a frantic sob and he desperately tried to force back his tears – in vain.

It was just too much to bear anymore. Dírhael was dead, along with three respected soldiers. He was alone and disliked, no hated. Celebrían was out there somewhere and tortured or killed. And it was all his fault, his fault alone.  
Pressing his other hand against his abdomen he bent down a little bit to let his hair fall in front of his tear-stained face. His world span and he desperately wanted to sit down. His left hand left his abdomen to reach for the armrest of a nearby chair, searching to steady its owner.

"My lord Erestor?" A small voice asked, startling the dark hurting ellon.  
Angrily wondering who dared to interrupt his one moment of weakness, Erestor dried his tears with his sleeve in erratic movements, straightened and turned.

For one moment the young blond ellon could see surprise in the dark eyes of the chief advisor, quickly replaced by a frown. Faelon's now former student nervously played with the hems of his robe and Erestor remembered how he had done the same thing when he had first spoken with Elrond.  
"Forgive me, my lord. I … you wanted to talk with me and … I hope you did not change your mind."

"I seldom do." There was no need to change one's opinion when being right after all.

"Of course my lord. I … I just wanted … I know that it was really my responsibility and it is no excuse of course but lord Faelon gave me another task and said that he would see to the balance sheets himself."

"That comes as no surprise. Melpomaen, is it?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Outstanding performance appraisals by all former instructors; yet always the same note: lacking assertiveness. Correct?"

"Well, …"

Erestor's voice was harsh when he cut in. "Shyness and unduly modesty are foolish. If you're good at something, there is no need to belittle it. Meekness will get you nowhere with me. Understood?"

The blond ellon hastily nodded, too afraid to say something.

"Good. So as you do not have an instructor anymore, I will tutor you, starting tomorrow. Today I want you to enlist every task you have been entrusted with during your apprenticeship and hand it to me tomorrow morning before breakfast. Now go."

Melpomaen nearly fled out of the council chamber, not knowing if he should consider himself the most fortunate elf or the most unfortunate: Erestor had never taken a student before and he was sure the chief advisor would be his stern, impatient self. But then … maybe he wasn't really that bad. He would probably learn more than under the tutelage of any other advisor and Erestor … seeing him cry had startled Melpomaen boundlessly, and now he was just not sure what to think of it.  
Time would tell he decided and went to make the list his tutor had asked him for.

* * *

Erestor swiftly went to his rooms. He walked with a grim face only curtly nodding to the elves he passed and he felt their eyes upon him, their whispers, their grins and it filled him with disgust. In front of his inner eye he could see them pointing at him, laughing about his red-rimmed eyes, proof of his tears.  
He didn't see their shocked faces, their worried glances while they whispered.

"They have finally gone too far, it seems."

"I have long wondered how much of Faelon's insults he would take."

"But he is chief advisor, he should stand above it all. He cannot just fire everyone he dislikes."

"Then he would work alone."

There was no laughter this time.

"Does anyone know what they said to upset him so? I've never seen him cry." Said a female with a sad undertone.

A calm voice spoke up for the first time, the white haired ellon it belonged to gazed thoughtfully after the retreating figure of the black clad advisor. "They accused him of earning his position in lord Dírhael's and maybe lord Elrond`s bed."  
There was a shocked silence after this statement while Lindir turned and walked away, slowly reconstructing the image he had had of the dark brat that had worked himself to the top of lord Elrond's household.

Erestor left his rooms half an hour later with his usual serious but calm demeanour. He walked to Elrond's office and knocked. When he was bid entry he opened the door, being welcomed by a raised eyebrow.  
Erestor looked at the older elf. The last weeks had left their mark: the lord of Imladris seemed to be weary, older somehow. Deep lines marked his brow and his skin had lost its life. Worry and grief had gnawed at him and it showed in his appearance and bearing.  
Erestor hated the fact that he would have to burden him even more.

"Seat yourself, please. I've wondered when you would come by to tell me that you all but fired three of my eldest advisors." Erestor wished his lord would at least raise his voice or growl at him for bypassing his authority like this. Only months ago he would have. He found the disappointment and weariness to be much more difficult to deal with than anger.

Erestor slowly sank into one of the cushioned armchairs in front of his lord's desk.  
"We needed to finish the meeting my lord. They were already here I take it?"

Elrond nodded.

"What did you tell them?"

"That I would speak with you before saying anything. You cannot just fire anyone you like without consulting me, Erestor."  
Still Elrond's voice bore no harshness. Erestor sighed; his lord was probably too drained to be angry. He stared at the wood grain of his lord's desk thinking about the best way to tell his lord of Faelon's words. They had hurt, they still did.

"They said I was sleeping my way up to the top; in front of the whole council no less."

"By the grace of the Valar." Elrond closed his eyes.

Erestor hated himself for his weakness as he felt his tears well up again. "I … I would be the last to … I felt safe with Dírhael, he would never have … I needed to take drastic measures to stop this immediately."

Elrond nodded sadly. He would deal with this problem personally. The three advisors had crossed all limits, a suspension of staff was inevitable.

"I understand, Erestor. But in future I want you to consult me first so that we will make such a decision together.  
Now: how do we deal with all the work with three senior advisors less?"

"Don't worry, my lord. I am already working on it and I do not expect too many problems.  
One thing more: I have taken Melpomaen as a student. He is quite intelligent and if he is ambitious enough, I am sure under my tutelage he will overcome his shyness and be a great asset to your council."

"Do not be too hard on him, Erestor. He is not a fighter like you. Be patient and don't expect him to fulfil all your expectations perfectly from the start."

Erestor looked startled, did Elrond not trust him? He would perform this duty as impeccable as everything else! "Of course my lord."

* * *

Two days later a soldier from the borders galloped into the courtyard. He brought news that the search party was returning and would reach Imladris the next day. With a grave expression he told Elrond that the lords Elladan and Elrohír had managed to free their mother but that she was badly injured and delirious.

Hearing a gasp to his left, Elrond saw Arwen standing next to him, pale and shivering with the afford to suppress her sobs. In an instant the half-elf drew his daughter in a tight embrace to sooth her "I swear I will do everything to heal her. Now dearest, will you help lord Erestor to make ready for their arrival? I will be in the healing wing preparing what I will need. Everything will be all right again; I promise."

Glorfindel stood near them and when Arwen had left he quietly turned towards Elrond. He had tried to be there for his lord but it was hard on them all. Elrond was slowly breaking apart and it broke him as well.

"If anyone can heal her, it is you, my friend."

Elrond nodded. "Thank you." He tried to smile at the blond. Valar he was so glad that Glorfindel was at his side, he did not know what he would do without him. He filled him with hope whenever he lost it.

And he lost his hope the instant his eyes locked upon the battered body of his wife only hours later.

* * *

The silver queen laid battered and broken on a litter carried by her sons. Although her body was covered with a blanket, Elrond could almost feel the numerous cuts, whip marks and bruises hiding beneath.

He had known that she was near; Vilya giving him the power to feel her presence since her party passed Imladris' borders. He had waited, only Glorfindel at his side in the healing wing while he checked for the fourth time that everything was prepared.  
And the very moment they entered the courtyard, he had known it, too. But what frightened him more than he would let others see was that he could not feel her through the bond they shared, only through Vilya. Celebrían lived for now but their bond had diminished in strength, it's light only a memory in the darkness that the current events had thrown them into.

With tears in his eyes he passed his sons – too absorbed in his own sorrow to see the distress they were in. Long precious moments he stood at his wife's side, one of her pale hands in his, only aware of the pain he felt at seeing her like that. Then he turned to address his sons.  
"Elladan, Elrohír, bring her to the healing wing please."

Elrond went ahead, the younger peredhil following him.  
"They tortured her …"  
"… in a cave."  
"… we could hear their laughter."  
And then after a small bitter pause the elder twin added venomously  
"… we killed them all."

Elladan's words were so full of hatred that his father looked over his shoulder at his eldest son, for the first time realizing what this might have done to him. He could not blame Elladan, but revenge would not help the young ellon heal – nor his brother.

But this was not the time to speak about this, not when Celebrían laid on this litter on the brink of death.

They entered a sunlit sickroom in the southern part of the healing wing. Almost dissociated Elrond thought that the bright room with its pale wooden furniture and white curtains and bed linen made an almost cruel contrast to the blue-black bruises and dark red stains on his wife's pale skin and the dark shadow that had fallen on his family.

Elladan and Elrohír laid their mother gently down onto the soft bed. The younger twin let his fingers slide over his mother's hair, sticky with blood, silent tears running down his cheeks. But his father was busy removing his wife's clothes and to look over her wounds and his brother too angry to notice.  
In an instant four or five healers rushed in and bowled the young twins out of the way.

Quietly Glorfindel entered the room and quickly took in the situation. He saw Elladan's limitless hate burning inside his eyes, the softer anger mingled with fear and pain in Elrohír's; and he saw the distraught expression on Elrond's fair face. The family would break apart if Celebrían died.  
Silently he went to Elladan and laid him a hand on his shoulder. "Elladan?"

The young ellon did not react so Glorfindel gently took his shoulder to turn him around but the peredhel only shook him off violently. Once again the dark haired warrior turned to his parents.

"Elladan … look at Elrohír." Glorfindel murmured quietly.

The elder twin turned around to look at his brother standing lost at his mother's side and crying helplessly. The sight broke Elladan's cold anger, leaving only concern for his twin.

Softly Glorfindel interfered "He needs you, Elladan; alone he's lost. Take a bath, both of you. Then, if you feel up to it, find your sister. The three of you need each other.  
Elladan, don't let Arwen enter, before we call you; she must not see this. I need you to take over, okay? Can you do this?"

Elladan nodded. Slowly he approached his younger brother and gently steered him out of the room while Glorfindel returned to the courtyard to oversee the medical treatment of his wounded guards and send the others to rest.

There had been casualties, but only few and most of the wounded had survived the travel back to Imladris. The remaining injured warriors would all survive and recover.  
As the healers helped the last of his soldiers enter the healing wing, Glorfindel spotted a black clad figure between those of his men who went to the barracks to rest from their long and hard journey and the fighting – Erestor. Slowly he approached the advisor who had halted a much taller and elder ellon and he strained his ears to catch fragments of their conversation.

"… found nothing, my lord." He heard the guard say compassionately. Erestor blinked several times and for a moment he seemed to sway on his feet.

"… the other guards?" Erestor's voice hitched and he looked away to the mountains where his father and mentor had found his death.

The guard shook his head. One moment it seemed as if he wanted to reach out and to reassure the chief advisor but he knew not if he was allowed to and so he drew back.

"I am so sorry, lord Erestor." The guard bowed and left hurriedly, almost fleeing the uncomfortable situation.  
Glorfindel sighed. It seemed that Erestor, as young as he was, succeeded in scaring away the most steadfast of his men – even when he was in obvious pain. Carefully he made his way to the counsellor but before he could reach him, Erestor straightened and raised the marble mask that hid his true countenance so well, his moment of weakness had passed. Coldly he nodded towards Glorfindel and walked towards the main entrance.

"Erestor!" The seneschal called after him.

The darkling cocked his head inquisitively as he turned again.

Suddenly Glorfindel found himself at a loss as what to say. He had wanted to offer comfort, but the cold stare that he was objected to halted the words before they could leave his lips.

"If there is nothing important, lord seneschal, I would like to go back to my work. I have funerals and much paperwork to organize."

Glorfindel sadly shook his head. "Don't, Erestor; don't hide your pain: it will poison you."

"I will be fine, my lord. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary. If that is all …"

"He was my friend, too. And Elrond's. If you need a listening ear …"

Erestor only nodded a little bit stiffly and walked away.

* * *

Three days Elrond fought for his wife's life and finally he managed to stabilize her. Celebrían had been badly wounded, but she would live and her children rejoiced after waiting in fear to hear the news of her death.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Ada ~ father  
ellon ~ male elf  
naneth ~ mother  
saes ~ please


	4. Este's Lessons

**Author's Note: **Thanks again Lady Minuialwen for you reviews! I promise I'll bring this story to a satisfying ending.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4: Este's Lessons**

* * *

Meanwhile Erestor had prepared everything for the funerals of his adoptive father and more than a dozen soldiers. While the funerals of the soldiers who had given their lives in the rescue mission for the Silver Lady were held two days after the party's return, Erestor decided to wait with the others until Elrond would be able to participate.  
The soldiers had brought back the corpses of the eleven men that had fallen in the mountains and they needed to be buried but Elrond could not be expected to leave his wife's side while her survival was still uncertain. Even so, Erestor wanted Elrond to be given the chance to pay his last respects to Dírhael and to the three soldiers who had attempted to save Celebrían and had lost their lives.

When finally it was reported that Celebrían was unconscious but stable and recovering, Erestor set the date of the funerals the day after, so Elrond had some time to recover himself.  
At sunset they would meet at the graveyard where the tombstones were currently put up. Since they had nothing to bury they would lay items into the graves that had been dear to the dead. They would light candles and Lindir would sing a lament over each of them: Berion, Haradion, Aglaron and Dírhael.

Once, elves had not been acquainted with the idea of dead and still every dead Firstborn struck them hard. But the minions of the dark lord had taught them that even the lives of immortal elves were fragile and could be extinguished faster than the small flame of a candle.

They would grieve for days but they would recover, they would comfort themselves with memories and the knowledge that they would all meet again in some distant future because Eru's plans for Arda could not be thwarted – not by Morgoth, not by Sauron, by Orcs and other foul creatures.  
But they would grieve for the lost time and beauty.

The evening before the funeral of his adoptive father, Erestor searched out Lindir who was practising with the other minstrels for the following days. The young ellon had sung himself into the hearts of his audience and in the last years he had often sung solo while his fellows accompanied him with lutes, harps and flutes.  
And this was how Erestor found them in the hall of fire, while maids prepared the room and decorated it in dark colours for the following evening. The chief advisor stood at the large wooden doors that opened to the hall and listened to the songs and when the music died away he walked to the musicians.

His face was cold and calculating as always when he addressed the elves before him.  
"That was beautiful. It was for Aglaron, I take it?"  
Some of the minstrels were openly surprised to hear that the aloof chief counsellor had been able to guess correctly of whom they had sung. They had not thought him to care or even know that much about the young guard.

Lindir nodded. "Can we help you, lord chief counsellor?"

"Actually, yes, you can." He drew some papers forth from his robes and held it out to Lindir. "I have found these sheets of music and I would like you to play them tomorrow for lord Dírhael. It's a bit short notice, I know, but still ... I ... I thought that ... maybe ..."  
Erestor did not look Lindir in the eyes but held his gaze fixed at the papers in his hand and as Lindir took them he saw the counsellor's hands shiver slightly.

Lindir nodded slowly. "Of course, my lord."

Erestor inclined his head, turned on his heels and strode away, the minstrels behind them exchanging surprised glances. Only Lindir stood there, thoughtfully looking over the notes and imagining the song in his head; it was beautiful.

* * *

The next sunset found a large party of elves at Imladris' graveyard. Erestor stood next to his adoptive father's empty grave, his face blank, while Elrond, Glorfindel and many others raised their voice in speeches of honour for the fallen elves.

The chief advisor seemed strangely out of place between the crying and honestly grieving elves. His dispassionate, indifferent expression did not fit to someone who had lost a beloved father, a fact that brought up much disgust and ill will from his fellow elves. He only stood quietly at the graves and spoke some words when it was expected of him: nothing special, more or less a summary of what had been said before.  
Only when the minstrels started to play and Lindir raised his voice in a sweet lament, Erestor lowered his head and let the black waves of his hair obscure his face

"I remember a meadow one morning in May.  
With a sky full of dreams that sailed in that day.  
I was dancing through green waves of grass like the sea  
For a moment in time I could feel I was free.

"There are waves of forgiveness and waves of regret.  
And the first waves of true love I'll never forget.  
In the meadow that morning as I wandered alone  
There were green waves of yearning for life  
still unknown.

"Take me home to the meadow that cradles my heart  
Where the waves reach as far as you can see.  
Take me home to the meadow we've been too long apart,  
I can still hear you calling for me.

"Take me home to the meadow that cradles my heart  
Where the waves reach as far as you can see.  
Take me home to the meadow we've been too long apart,  
I can still hear you calling for me.

"What I'd give to remember that heavenly state  
Just a moment in time all mine to create.  
As I'm taking my last breath I know what I'll see  
There'll be green waves forever out there waiting for me.

"Take me home to the meadow that cradles my heart  
Where the waves reach as far as you can see.  
Take me home to the meadow we've been too long apart,  
I can still hear you calling for me."  
(Secret Garden, Greenwaves)

As soon as Lindir's voice subsided Erestor stole away as quietly as he could but still drawing the attention of many of the assembled elves and soon after the dark ellon had left, the whispers started.

"How can he do that? Leaving the funeral of the one who took him in."  
"That is so disrespectful!"  
"I never understood why lord Dírhael adopted him in the first place."

"Silence, please!" Elrond's voice was calm but demanded attention. He waited some moments more before he begged the minstrels to proceed.

After the laments had been sung the assembled elves returned to the main house. They would sing more while the stars appeared but most did not stay at the graves that did not hold bodies.

Lindir though left the crowd to search for the silent advisor who had become a mystery to him. Only weeks ago he had considered Erestor the coldest heartless elf on Arda. Even Feanor had loved – though the object of his greatest desire had been the Silmaril he had been capable of desire – something he had doubted that Erestor with his dispassionate demeanour could feel.

Now he was not sure if maybe the chief advisor had simply no people skills when it came to private matters. Oh, he was one of the best when it came to scheming and negotiating but approaching other elves as a friend was a completely different matter. At least in the council chamber he knew that his opponent would do everything to manoeuvre him to the inferior position, there he knew what to expect.  
The truth was that he felt compassion for the lonely ellon.

After nearly half an hour he found Erestor sitting on the ground in Dírhael's office, his back leaning against the former chief advisor's desk, crying softly.  
As he entered silently, Erestor startled and stood hurriedly. He turned away from the minstrel and wiped away his tears.

Lindir saw the slim shoulders shaking while the advisor tried to calm down by drawing shuddering intakes of breath.

"Does lord Elrond need me?"

Lindir cocked his head. "You know very well that our lord would not send one of his best minstrels to fetch his chief advisor."

"It was the most likely of the few legal or at least honourable reasons for you to come into my office that I could think of. Maybe the only one."

"Legal?" Lindir shook his head, smiling slightly. Moments later Erestor turned, a deadly glare on his fair feature.

"I have had enough of this. You will leave now for I will not tolerate your taunting any longer!"

Weeks ago, Lindir would have lashed back in an instance but now all he saw was a wounded animal that had decided to attack out of fear and instinctual self-protection. He smiled bitterly to himself, wishing he had realized this earlier; unfortunately Erestor did not react well at being smiled at in his current situation with what he thought to be a derisive smirk.

Erestor's nose wrinkled only a little bit in disgust, that was all the warning the dark ellon gave before he strode towards the white haired minstrel, stopping only centimetres in front of Lindir, his black eyes staring at blue ones, cold and filled with hatred.

"Careful, *minstrel*; else you will regret your deeds and words. You wouldn't want that, would you?"  
Erestor sneered. The counsellor was a little bit smaller than his opponent but still Lindir felt as if the chief advisor towered over him like a massive rock, menacingly dark and oppressive. Long moments passed while Lindir tried to control his sudden fear but only when Erestor slowly turned around did it subside.  
The minstrel took the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding; he didn't understand what had just happened; only that his heart raced madly in his chest and his breathing was still frantic and irregular.

"Now go!"

But Lindir did not back away; on the contrary he started to move towards the black haired advisor. "You loved him."

"I would have thought you more intelligent than to think that we had an affair. But then, gossiping seems to be the only thing my fellow elves excel at lately, not logic."

"I didn't mean that." Lindir's melodious voice was calm and soft. "That song. You wrote it. He loved you as a son and he told you that his wife and daughter dwell in lord Námo's halls; that he wished to see the meadows of Aman and to be reunited with his family. And you loved him back like a son should. And you wrote that song for him."

Erestor laughed bitterly and turned again. "So you came to mock me, then? Yes, he was like a father to me, the only true family and friend I ever had! "

The minstrel sadly shook his head, his white tresses swinging. "You want to misunderstand, don't you?"  
He turned and walked to the door, closed it quietly and leaned against it, effectively blocking the only exit. He would stay here with the grieving ellon as long as it would take to make him open up a little bit.

Erestor's expression betrayed his disbelieve, his mask had slipped.

"How dare you? You are trespassing, Lindir. Give way!"

"Make me." It was a serious request.

For some moments Erestor contemplated the situation. He could try to throw the white haired minstrel out of his office; but Lindir was slightly taller and stronger. Chances were high that he would not be able to best his opponent. Furthermore the other seemed to have set his mind on talking with him. Something he himself was not inclined to do.  
But Lindir was no aggressive person and had never attacked another physically. Surely he wouldn't get violent if he resorted to ignoring him?  
So taking one deep breath Erestor returned to his desk and started to work.

Lindir frowned in surprise at the sudden change of behaviour. Still he was determined to wait.

Long minutes passed with Lindir leaning against the door and Erestor scribbling on a piece of paper, organizing his tasks for the coming week. He sighed as it got longer and longer for he had Elrond's, Dírhael's and his own duties to do, not to mention those of the three advisors he had dismissed only a week ago. And more and more he pushed the irritating minstrel to a corner of his consciousness.

Meanwhile Lindir observed the counsellor closely, slowly becoming angered as his patience was growing thin: he could not understand Erestor's passive nature. A blind dwarf could notice that the advisor was unhappy; and how could he not, having lost his only friend and adoptive father? But still he would never accept help, too stubborn and too proud was he to do so.

Maybe he should force Erestor to listen. Lindir had always liked Dírhael and the fondness that the old ellon had had towards this darkling woke his curiosity; and Erestor's knowledge and literacy would make for a good companion now that he knew the dark ellon was not as cold hearted as he had thought him to be. Lindir was determined to befriend Erestor even if the dark ellon would prove to be a biting, fire-spitting deadly dragon.

And he was beautiful. Everyone seemed to ignore it, but Erestor was beautiful with his black shining tresses and his pale skin. His lips like rose petals and his eyes like glistening onyxes. There was something exotic about his features and he moved with a cat-like grace. Oh yes, he was beautiful.

Well, maybe a dragon like Erestor only needed someone courageous to tame him; and maybe a few drastic measures.

Like a predator creeping up on his prey he approached the smaller ellon – who was still quite busy ignoring him. With surprising swiftness he grabbed the backrest of Erestor's chair and quickly turned it around.  
He smiled at the black haired advisor's surprised expression but the darkling reacted first. Erestor stood and tried to push Lindir back; but the minstrel quickly caught his wrists and turned him around, crossing his slender arms, restraining Erestor in a tight embrace.

Erestor was taken aback by the strength with which he was held against the other and therefore his attempts at freeing himself were weak at best.

"Now *you* will listen. I never spoke ill about you and I had the highest of respects for lord Dírhael. It is true though: I was not overly fond of you."  
Growing angry again at the minstrel's words, Erestor struggled in earnest against the restricting arms.

"Be still!" Lindir hissed. "I realized, that we know nothing about each other." He was relieved when the advisor stilled.  
"But when I read the lament … I think that I might have misjudged you just as you misjudge me."

Erestor had finally managed to get his raging emotions under control again and as he spoke he did it with his calm, demanding demeanour that served him so well in the council chambers.

"Lindir, Let go of me! Then, kindly tell me why you are here and *trespassing*."

The minstrel only smiled against the black tresses. "I want more songs. I will get the next song in four weeks. That should give you time enough."

He felt Erestor stiffen and grinned. All of a sudden he let go of the advisor who nearly stumbled due to the lack of support. Then Lindir exited the study, hoping to have surprised the advisor enough to have awoken his curiosity in turn.

* * *

The next four weeks Erestor caught himself at thinking about words, rhymes and melodies, a small smile playing on his lips. When he headed from the counsel rooms towards his office, or when he made his way to the great hall for another meal, when he left his office deep in the night to search out his bed for some hours rest and sometimes, but very seldom, when sitting at his desk and his thoughts wandered off.  
While he was always irritated by the way the minstrel's sudden disruption of his one moment of grief had affected him and caused his normally unwavering concentration to slip, he was berating himself sharply whenever the thoughts of music disrupted his work and punished himself by working even longer. When Elrond ordered him to bed, he would simply work in his own chambers.

The only one noticing was Erestor's new assistant: Melpomaen. But the young one was still not self-confident enough to bring it up in front of Elrond or Erestor.  
And more than others Melpomaen could see the workload that they had to get done, that would not allow them to work less. Three senior advisors and one chief counsellor were not easily replaced; and Elrond certainly wasn't. Even with Melpomaen and his new instructor working night and day and delegating more work to the other advisors, they could barely manage.  
Still, after two weeks the advisors managed to accomplish the daily work without too many problems due to Erestor's efficient nature and strict leadership.

Meanwhile Elrond and his children cared for Celebrían devotedly and slowly the silver lady recovered. It took her nearly a week to awake but at last she did.

* * *

The first thing Celebrían was aware of was the pain, a dull numbing pain all over her body. It seemed like venom in her veins and tissue, poisoning her very being, filling her and becoming her only reality.

And then there were those images and feelings.  
Dark. Cold. Fear. Oh and that smell. Rough hands and pain; endless pain. Dírhael chokes on his blood. Blood on her hands. The sound of his choking and his eyes. His eyes! The soldier screams her name, calls for her. The whip leaves streams of agony on her back. She does not manage to get her feet into the stirrups. Oh Valar, they are coming nearer. The Orc loosens his ragged trousers. She looks up but the soldier is gone. Everyone is gone, everything is gone. Nothing left, no pride, no honour; nothing left intact, not her body, not her spirit.

Hot tears flowed down Celebrían's pale cheeks, a sob escaped her throat. She should have left, she should just have left. When her shoulders began to shake Elrond woke next to her.

"Hush, love!"  
No she was not his love, Glorfindel was. Elrond just had not realised it yet, but she had, Celebrían knew that. She sobbed harder.

Elrond didn't know what to do. He could see the pain and fear in her eyes, he could feel it. Those Orcs had hurt her in a way he could not heal. He could not heal her spirit, seeing her eyes he was not sure if hers could heal here in Middle Earth at all. The worse was that he felt he had increased her pain with his declaration of love. And he knew not why.

"Are you in pain? Do you need something to drink? ... Please, just nod or shake your head."  
When she nodded weakly he supported her in an upright position and took the water glass from the night stand. Raising the glass to her mouth he helped her drink. Softly Elrond smiled at the blond elleth that he loved so much. "Drink as much as you can."

"I have added a pain reliever. Slowly, dear one, don't upset your stomach."

He waited as Celebrían calmed down and fell asleep again. Raising the back of his hand shakily to his mouth he suppressed a sob. Maybe he would not be able to help her overcome her ordeal.

* * *

Slowly Celebrían recovered, at least physically. But she only spoke when asked to and never more than one-syllable answers.  
Her children who had rejoiced at her awakening soon realised the real danger their mother was in and all their hopes, although diminishing daily, laid in the healing powers of their father and in the wisdom and might of their grand-mother and grand-father who were already on their way to Imladris. Never did they realise that Celebrían's fate was already woven in Vairë's tapestries.

Two weeks after she awoke, Celebrían was resting in the sun on one of the large balconies of Imladris. She had not yet fully healed; although the countless bruises were finally fading, her broken ribs and leg would need more time, not to mention the cuts and whip marks.

Arwen was sitting at her side, trying to distract her mother with talk or singing; both not really showing any success. The young elleth had even tried to engage her mother in chess, a game that they used to play together for hours. But nothing could give Celebrían pleasure anymore.  
And so Arwen became silent after two hours and went to sit beside her mother instead, letting her feel that she was not alone.

"Arwen."

"Yes nana?"

"I have done so many mistakes."

Arwen had expected that her mother would blame herself, she was not unprepared. "No, nana! You have done nothing wrong, nothing to have deserved that!"

"Hush please aewithen! You are young. There is much that you don't know. Please get your brothers and your father. It is time for me to speak openly after centuries of silence. And please bring Glorfindel with you."

Slowly Arwen stood. She was afraid of what was to come. Somehow she knew that Celebrían would leave after that conversation. For some moments she stood there, hoping against reason that her mother would revoke her request but to no avail.

"I'll return in some minutes."

Arwen rushed to her father's office, nearly running but it was empty. She turned and without knocking she opened the door to Erestor's office. He always knew what was going on in Imladris.  
Her father's chief advisor looked up at the sudden intrusion and upon seeing his lord's daughter he stood, bowing formally.

"Erestor have you seen my father?"

"No, my lady. But I know where he is. He is with the lords Elladan and Elrohír. I shall seek them out and send them to you right away."

But the princess was unfortunately not in the mood for propriety or patience. "I need them *now*! And Glorfindel."

Erestor blushed a little bit. "My lady Arwen, half an hour ago your brothers came to take lord Elrond to the baths." He cleared his throat. "It would be improper for you to search them out there."

Arwen rolled her eyes. She kind of liked Erestor with his arid way. "Oh well then, I would ask you to fetch them and bring them to my father's chambers."

Erestor bowed again. "Yes, my lady."

"And do you have any idea where lord Glorfindel is?"

"A patrol returned an hour ago and should now be reporting to the seneschal in his office. I will send a servant. I presume he also is to come to the family wing?"

"Yes, Erestor, thank you." She turned to leave but she stopped at the doorframe and looked back  
"You really are one of Imladris' greatest treasures, you know?"

The dark ellon opened his mouth but closed it again, blushing deeply. Arwen smiled a little bit sadly, knowing how alone the dark ellon must be after his adoptive father had died. Few ever commended Erestor and all who did were currently putting all their strength into her family. She knew she should do something about it but her mother needed her, too.

"I will be on my way, my mother is waiting."

* * *

Minutes later Erestor entered the baths, clad in his high-necked black robes, though the servants had forced him to take off his soft leather shoes. Now he strode towards the pools in the back, completely upright and never glancing sideways to where he was being observed by his fellow elves with more than one snicker and biting remark.  
He went straight up to Elrond and his sons and cleared his throat to get their attention. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, the only sign of his anger as he bowed stiffly. All three peredhil looked to him in surprise. Erestor had never been in the public baths before and not even Dírhael had ever asked him to, understanding the need to avoid disrobing in front of others.

"My lords. Lady Arwen bids you all to meet her in the family wing in your chambers, lord Elrond. Before you ask, the lady did not declare herself but indicated that it is a matter of high urgency. Lord Glorfindel will join you in some minutes."

He bowed again and turned on his heels, walking just slow enough to evade the appearance of fleeing the uncomfortable situation. The three ellyn in the water looked at each other, suddenly concerned. Celebrían was supposed to be in the family wing. They only hoped that she was alright.

"Let us go!" Elrond said and exited the pool.

"You know, I have never seen Erestor dress so revealingly." Elrohír joked nervously but his brother and father did not smile.

* * *

When the three peredhil arrived Celebrían laid on the lounger on the sunlit terrace. Arwen sat to her feet, gently stroking her arm.

Elrond rushed to his wife. "Celebrían are you alright?"

The silver lady looked up to him. Amidst her family she stood out visibly with her golden hair and blue eyes. All of her children had inherited the dark hair and grey eyes of their father. Only Arwen had her face.  
The lord observed his wife, she was pale but she did not look any worse than in the morning when he last had examined her. The blue robe she wore was still a little bit too large for her weakened body but still she seemed to be doing fine.

Something else troubled him: the determined but serene expression on her face. She had come to a decision, an important decision, but one he felt he would not like.

"Please sit down all of you. I am fine, Elrond."  
But her husband was not satisfied with that answer and while Elladan and Elrohír went to retrieve enough chairs for them all he went to examine her.

After some minutes the door to Elrond's chambers was pushed open again by a tall blond ellon

"Elrond? My lady Celebrían? Are you alright?" Glorfindel strode into the room. "I came immediately. Has something happened?"  
Something about the rather formal character of the invitation had alarmed him to no end and he wondered if he now got the explanation for lady Celebrían's odd behaviour.

"Calm down, my friend." Elrond said as he turned to look at his captain but Glorfindel could see that Elrond was concerned, too. And concernedly they watched Celebrían as she sat up to invite the captain to sit with a graceful hand gesture.  
"Sit down, all of you. And Elrond: stop fussing!" She gently reprimanded her husband.

The silver lady looked lovingly to her family. Valar, how she loved them.

"I love you all so much." She smiled with tear-glistening eyes.

"We love you, too, nana." Elrohír said as his siblings nodded somewhat anxiously.

"Please, do not ... do not interrupt me. I need to do this." Again she smiled and then she looked to her husband and extended her hand. Elrond took it, gently cradling her white hand in his.

"You know, I wanted you the instant I first saw you." She turned to her children. "Your father was so shy when I first met him, he barely managed to speak to me." Once again she turned to her husband. "Oh you were so sweet, you made such a fool of yourself. But I decided that you could not be that dumb being Gil-galad's herald."

Elrond smiled. "I would never have had the courage to approach you. The beautiful daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel! Luckily you were bolder."

Celebrían sobered quickly. "My mother told me not to. When I started to pursue you she warned me."

Elrond frowned. "She warned you? I never had the feeling that she disliked me ..."

Gently Celebrían squeezed his hand "Oh she likes you a lot. Both my parents do. She did not warn me of you.

**FLASHBACK**

Celebrían had spent the evening in Elrond's company. The Half-Elf was visiting the Golden Wood and spend some time here, improving the relationship between Imladris and Lóriën.

Nearly euphoric she danced upstairs to the royal talan. But her mother and father already waited for her. Celebrían stopped and climbed the rest of the stairs while smiling to herself. "I am sorry, we forgot the time. But worry not: we were never alone. Haldir accompanied us and some friends of Elrond."

Galadriel looked to her daughter, a grave expression on her beautiful face. "I don't want you to pursue him."

"Excuse me?"The silver lady leaned forward slightly, not believing her ears.

"Listen to your mother child." Celeborn gently interfered. He knew Galadriel was afraid, afraid to lose their daughter, but with her current display of self-will she would get nowhere with their daughter.  
"Just for some minutes."

"You are not meant to be together, Celebrían. He is not your soul mate and you are not his. You will be happy for a time but in the end Elrond will encounter his true soul mate. It will ruin you and you will sail to Aman."

Celebrían clenched her teeth. "I love him and he loves me. You are wrong!" She hissed.

"You will be stealing time, Celebrían. Centuries of time that Elrond should spend with the one who is meant for him. Centuries of grief for the both of you."

"You know that the future you see is fickle! I can change it and I will prove you wrong!" Celebrían raised her voice until she was all but screaming.

"Calm down, both of you!" Celeborn thundered. Both ellyth looked to him, both searching for his support but he could only give it to one.

"Celebrían, we love you more than anything else. All we are trying to do is protect you." He tried to reason.

"But one day you will have to realise that this is my life and not yours."

Her father nodded. "We know that, darling. But Galadriel has seen you sail, she has seen Elrond with his soul mates. Sometimes we can change what we are shown by the Valar but we cannot change who Eru has intended for us, and *he* is not that one. He is not yours, Celebrían."

But the silver lady was too stubborn and proud to concede. Glaring at her parents she said with as much forcefulness as she could muster "I will prove you wrong! You will not come between us!"

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Celebrían still held the hand of the one she loved, a deep sadness in her eyes. Gently she rubbed the slender fingers that had wrapped around hers.  
She could see that Elrond was trying not to cry but he was dangerously close.

"I had no right on you but still I cannot regret it." She took a deep trembling breath before continuing.  
"I wanted you all to know that I will sail to the Undying lands. I have witnessed too much to find peace here."

Immediately there was a shocked uproar from her children  
"No!"  
"You cannot leave!"  
"We need you here!"

Glorfindel had so far stood in the background, not really knowing why the lady wanted him here but slowly he had an idea where this was leading towards and he felt incredibly uncomfortable.

"Hush, please. I cannot stay ... you don't ... I do not regret anything even if it is rather egotistic. I have been granted a wonderful life with wonderful children. You all have made it worthwhile."  
Tears flowed down Celebrían's cheeks.

"But I need to go. I cannot steal any more time, neither Elrond's nor that of his soul mate. My mother was right."

A deafening silence settled between the assembled elves. Elrond wept for the knowledge that he would lose his wife, that she could not be convinced to stay. He felt empty now, finally understanding the nature of her grief. He did not know what he had expected but not this, never this.

Elladan, Elrohír and Arwen sat in their arm chairs. Elladan stared into nothingness, his jaw set firmly while Elrohír held Arwen and tried to comfort her.  
And Glorfindel saw all this with growing distress. He, too was close to tears for the pain the family in front of him suffered through. He did not want to intrude, but he also did not know what to do.

"Hîn, could you please wait outside for a moment? I have to talk to your father and Glorfindel first. I just did not want to tell this twice." She smiled at them as they raised and left the room one by one. Only Arwen looked back, understanding what was to happen in this room now. Numbness overcame her. She needed to deal with this news, but she just could not do it now. It was all too much.

Celebrían looked to Glorfindel woefully. "I have envied you for a long time."

Glorfindel looked down and said nothing. What should he have said anyway?

"Celebrían, there was never need to, I love you! I always have." Elrond quietly said.

The silver lady shook her head. "But have you not listened? We are not soul mates, love. But I know that you and Glorfindel are. I have only kept you from each other.  
I do not regret it, for I have had the gift of three wonderful children. They are my joy."

Celebrían looked to Glorfindel. "Come hither, cousin." The blond ellon slowly approached and Celebrían took his hand in her free one.

"I want the two of you to be happy."  
Then she looked intently to her husband  
"Do remember our time together with fondness, do not think of the grief I have put you through. One day we will meet again in the Undying Lands and there I will call you mellon and I will be happy for you and you will be happy with the one you love."

"Don't do this."

"Elrond peredhel, I am severing our bond. I give you free to live and love. Love again Elrond Earendilion! Love Glorfindel like you should."  
A single sob escaped her before she managed to compose herself again.  
"He is my mother's cousin and the most valiant and honourable ellon in this valley besides you and our children and he deserves your love, not your mourning over someone who was not meant to be with you."

"Celebrían ..."

"I bless your union ... now please go. Give me some minutes before you send in our children. I will tell them."

"Please, love."

"Elrond, go! Glorfindel, please leave!"

The captain nodded and took Elrond's arm, steering him out of the room. "Come, both of you need some time."

Glorfindel took Elrond outside where his children were waiting.  
All three stood immediately in one fluid motion, anxiously awaiting the news.

"What happened?"  
"What did mother say?" The twins asked simultaneously. Arwen stayed quiet and instead observed her father. He looked miserable, pale and weak, all life fled from his being and the light in his eyes but a small flame behind an impenetrable curtain of pain and grief.

As Elrond did not answer, Glorfindel swallowed the lump in his throat and did in his place. "She severed their bond. Celebrían will go into the west and set Elrond free."  
The captain did not meet the younger elves' eyes, telling them as much as they needed to know to guess the rest.

"To love you?" Arwen asked, but her voice was void of judgement. It was a question; nothing more, nothing less.

"I ... pen neth, I don't know about Elrond, but I need some time myself to sort things out, okay?"

Elrohír felt so drained. His whole world was turning upside down, all the constants in his life falling away. He turned to his brother, who stood next to him and laid his hand on his shoulder. Both needed the quiet affirmation that at least they would not desert each other, even if everything else was falling apart. Elladan on the other side did not know what to feel. He wanted to be angry at Glorfindel for loving his father, at his mother for deserting them, at his father for not preventing it ... but he couldn't. He was angry at himself for not finding their mother early enough, for not being able to spare her the torment; even though he knew she would have gone nonetheless.  
And he hated those Orcs, those filthy, horrible, cruel monsters. They had ruined his mother's life, his life. He would hunt them down, one by one.

"Please give Celebrían some minutes, and then she wants to talk to you." Elrond said.  
"I am so sorry for everything."

"There was nothing you could have done, Elrond. No one is to blame save those Orcs."

Arwen watched as her father unconsciously leaned onto Glorfindel. They didn't know it yet, but a blind dwarf could see that they loved each other. Well it seemed her father and her brother's tutor, who was nearly like a second father for all three peredhil children only needed to catch up on that.

"Glorfindel, I really think you should bring ada into the gardens, he is quite pale."

"Arwen, I don't need you to ..." Elrond started but Glorfindel understood at once.  
"It's alright, Elrond. It's a good idea, come. You will be alright?"

As the three brunettes nodded, Elrond and Glorfindel left.

Arwen turned to her brothers. She could feel their distress, she was hurting, too, but she could understand that the guilt weighted on them heavily.  
She sighed and made to sit between them, her brothers shifting hesitantly to the sides to make her room.

"Elladan, Elrohír. We need to decide what to do. It seems our elders have made their decisions without us: nana will leave and she wants Glorfindel and ada to be together, she thinks that they are meant for each other. And ada, although he has not realised it yet, loves Glorfindel."

"How do you know?" Elrohír asked.

"Don't fret brother, soon you will see it, too." She taunted.

Again silence fell between them while they all pursued their own thoughts. Finally Elladan moved to Arwen's right.

"I don't want to lose her."

Elrohír leaned forward to be able to look at his brother. "I know, but she will go. Come, let us go inside and talk to her."

* * *

Meanwhile Elrond and Glorfindel had reached the gardens and were walking silently next to each other.  
It was an awkward situation. Their first and only kiss had been not even six months ago and since then they had put much effort in assuring each other that they were nothing more but friends, very close friends. Now they had been pushed into a kind of relationship that was far beyond that and none of them was comfortable with the circumstances at all.

And Elrond was losing his wife.

"Are you alright?"  
As that earned him a snort, Glorfindel bit his lip. "okay, I agree, bad question."

"Glorfindel, have you ever thought about that night in the gardens? When you comforted me."

The blond ellon sighed. He was afraid of the next step but then, he had never been one to back away from his fears. "Yes, of course."

Elrond looked to him. "I will lose my wife. I love her, Glorfindel. But I have always trusted Galadriel and Celebrían. I don't know what to think of all this ... mess."  
Tiredly Elrond drew his hand through his long dark tresses. "But truth be told: I often wondered what would have happened if I had met you before marrying Celebrían."

Glorfindel looked up towards the blue afternoon sky. "Just let us not rush things. I will be there for you, as I always have, as a friend. And then let us see how things develop, okay?"

Elrond nodded.

* * *

After Celebrían had informed her family about her wish to depart, at least the anxiety in the peredhil family vanished but it left behind a deep sadness and profound hate for Orcs that was mostly palpable in the young heirs of Elrond Half-Elven: Elladan and Elrohír.

Not even deferring to the arrival of their grand-parents they went to avenge their mother, feeling they could do nothing in Imladris, they vowed to only return when all of the Orcs that had tortured their mother were dead.

Elrond, Celebrían, Arwen and Glorfindel tried to persuade them into staying but to no avail. One morning they were gone leaving only a note for their family.

* * *

Lindir slowly walked to Erestor's office. He was nervous, to say the least. Maybe it had not been a good idea to give the counsellor so much time to think about their not yet existent friendship. He had wanted to catch the advisor out, to not give him any time to think, but then at the last moment he had backed away.  
He guessed that his chances were high that Erestor would kick him out, not just literally. But well, maybe it was worth it, if he managed to drag him out of the shell the advisor hid himself in.

Finally he stood in front of the large wooden door leading to Erestor's office. He looked behind, where Elrond was probably working in his own office and wrinkled his nose in reconsideration. If Erestor threw a tantrum, their lord was bound to hear every word. The minstrel sighed. 'For Dírhael; and for Erestor. After all it is in his interest.'

Lindir did not knock, but opened the door as if he owned the room and strode in. Erestor only momentarily looked up and devoted himself to his work again. The minstrel only barely managed to hide his irritation at being ignored once again and instead sat directly onto the parchments the advisor was currently reading.

Taking a deep breath, Erestor leaned back and looked at Lindir.

Lindir smiled. "I came for my song, my lord."

Erestor looked back to the courtyard, his jaw clenching, not with anger but with sadness and frustration.

Lindir's smile vanished and he sighed in disappointment. He had hoped, had so hoped that Erestor would open up to him. The song he had written for Dírhael's funeral had unveiled so much of Erestor's true character that he had hoped they could build a friendship through music. Erestor would not have had to talk to him directly but could have unburdened himself nonetheless. And now the advisor retreated.

In the middle of the oppressive silence he nearly missed the quiet whisper "I tried. I tried to write something merry and blithe ... but I could not."

The minstrel observed his opponent. What others saw as coldness was the deepest grief that Lindir had ever seen. Frozen in time, reclining from the world, the pain and hurt, Erestor sat there motionless like a marble statue. A broken existence, an animal bleeding to death, dying from the shock of being wounded too badly.  
Not daring to move or interfere Lindir decided to just listen.

"The lady Celebrían will sail next year. Did you know that?"

Lindir's eyes nearly bulged out. No, this he had not heard. No whispers had brought him such dark news. Slowly he shook his head, dazed by Erestor's revelation.

"Then I am sorry. Please do not repeat it to anyone. Our lord should choose the right moment to announce this."

The white haired minstrel carefully examined the other black haired ellon. So this was the reason why Erestor seemed so ... depressed, lifeless even? Somehow he doubted that, but maybe it had been the last straw.  
Dark circles showed beneath his dull eyes and his black tresses did not shine anymore.

"I swear to never breathe a word. But I am here now for you, to listen."

Erestor did not look at him but stared unfocused out of the large windows that opened to the courtyard below.

"lord Erestor, don't imprison yourself, talk to me! If not through spoken words then do so through verses! And don't play-act. If you try to force something into your songs that you are not, it will only be for the worse. Let them come at their own time, put your feelings and thoughts into them and they will be just as beautiful and help you heal."

Thoughtfully Lindir chewed at his lip as the chief advisor did not answer.

"Erestor ... I may skip the lord, if that's alright with you?" Lindir made it a rhetorical question, not leaving enough time for an answer. "Fine, no lord then. I hate it anyway.  
So: You will come with me now."

It was the only warning that Erestor got before Lindir grabbed his upper arm and pulled him upwards and out of the room.

"Let go, lord minstrel." He growled loudly "I have had enough of you bottling me or pushing me around!" Erestor managed to get hold of the doorframe and thereby hindered their progress.

"Erestor, we agreed on skipping the lord. Now let go, this is completely childish!" Lindir pressed out while he tried to pry open Erestor`s tight hold on the wooden doorframe, bracing one foot against the wood in the attempt.

Suddenly they heard the door behind them open and Elrond stepped out, only managing a baffled "What ...?" at the unique sight that greeted him. There was his solemn chief advisor clinging to the door frame of his office with a dogged expression, his knuckles already white from the force of his grip; behind the advisor stood his best minstrel, one foot braced against the wall, trying to break Erestor's hold loose, all the while cursing loudly.

At hearing his lord speak behind him, Erestor turned his head and his grip loosened in his shock. Immediately he was thrown backwards as Lindir still had his foot braced against the wall to pull him away from his office door. With a yelp both elves fell backwards against the opposite wall, landing in a heap of black and blue clothes, black hair mingling with white, only one meter away from the lord of the valley.

Elrond stared down at them, one eyebrow raised. "And what, pray tell, are you doing here?"

Erestor pulled himself free of the minstrel and hastily stood up, straightening his robes. Lindir nervously grinned and climbed to his feet.  
As the advisor took a deep breath to answer his lord, Lindir interfered. "I tried to carry your chief advisor off, my lord. You see he has worked to exhaustion these last weeks and I think some fresh air would do him good. And as it is, it seems that your chief advisor is not only one of the most intelligent elves I ever met, but one of the most stubborn also: sometimes one should force him to his luck."

Erestor stared unbelievingly at the white haired minstrel. Such outrageous disrespect! How dared Lindir speak thusly over him to their lord, while he stood next to him, no less!  
He gritted his teeth, turning towards Elrond. "My lord, I ..."

But the Half-Elf spoke up, interrupting his chief advisor with a raised hand. His stern gaze lingered on Lindir, piercing him.

"And you are sure that you have no ... less honourable intentions? I will not tolerate any malevolence."

Erestor cocked his head. "Well, thank you, my lord, but ..."

Lindir straightened and bravely met his lord's stare. "Never would I do such a thing. But I have the impression that Erestor needs some distraction ..."

"... I do not!" Erestor angrily exclaimed.

"... and I just wanted to take him outside for awhile."

Erestor had had enough; he turned on his heels and started to storm into his office again, when Elrond's clear voice halted him.

"Erestor! I think this is a great idea: go with Lindir, you have covered up for me for so long, now it is my time to return the favour."

Slowly Erestor turned, not quite believing his ears. Lindir grinned.

"I have no desire for a stroll in the gardens, my lord; and I have to finish some tasks first ..."

"I said I would cover up for you. Don't make me order you!"

Erestor opened his mouth and closed it again. Giving a curt nod as affirmation he glared at Lindir "Take the lead, then." He said in a clipped tone.

Lindir grinned devilishly and took Erestor's forearm . The minstrel nearly jogged as he pulled Erestor along who was obviously only trying to keep pace. The advisor had never been very sportive and soon Lindir had him panting.

"Lindir! Let go." He hissed while they passed some very confused Elves on the various corridors of the Last Homely House. It must have been a sight to behold: the well-liked minstrel with his white hair and light blue clothes dragging the most unpopular of Elves in all of Imladris through the corridor, Erestor nearly stumbling over his long black robes. Like a white gyre falcon and a crow they seemed.  
Erestor hated the looks he got, the disapproving frowns. Lindir caused so much furore and he felt so uncomfortable at being the centre of attention in Imladris' halls.

With one sharp tug he pulled himself free. "I said let go!"  
He was breathing heavily and stared at the minstrel in unconcealed anger.

Lindir tilted his head. "I am sorry. Will you come now?"

"Suddenly I have a say in the matter? After you humiliated me in front of lord Elrond and nearly the whole household, dragging me through the corridors?" Erestor sneered, trying to keep his voice down.

"Not really. You know I could return to lord Elrond and tell him that you weren't cooperating ..."

Erestor straightened. "As every Elf in Imladris I am our lord's subject and generally have to obey him. But not when it comes to private matters."

Lindir grinned. "In this case I would just have to find lord Glorfindel and bid him to tie you up so that I could take you along without too many problems or bruises. Thinking about it: you tied up and all to myself ... not a bad idea after all."  
Lindir's broad smile froze and vanished as he noticed with concern the sudden tension in the advisor's body. Erestor raised his chin and drew back a bit, his eyes large and shocked.

"A joke, Erestor. I was joking." The minstrel tried to placate the other ellon, but Erestor only retreated further.

"Tying up someone to bend them to your will is no joke."

Lindir grew even more concerned. What had just gone wrong that awfully? A moment ago Erestor had only been angry with him for the disrespect shown to his person but now ... Erestor seemed so tense and disdainful; and those words. Had this happened to him? Had Erestor been forced to ...

Elbereth no! He could not have known ... and now he had ruined every chance of friendship.  
Maybe something drastic could save the situation. A sincere apology ... drastic.

Slowly Lindir sank down on one knee, following a sudden idea. Erestor opened his mouth in shock and blushed a deep scarlet. Good, very good.  
Then the minstrel took Erestor's hand, pulling it against his chest. The advisor was so baffled that he didn't even try to pull back; even better.

Around them everyone had gone quiet as shocked eyes turned to the minstrel and the chief advisor.

"Erestor I never meant any disrespect towards you. You are right of course and never would I do something like that, not to you and not to anyone else.  
My careless bantering hurt, I can see that. But I did not want to imply what you thought. You are beautiful, my friend, and I think you don't know it. I just wanted to tell you this without making a fool out of myself. But I just managed to achieve the opposite effect, didn't I?  
I am sorry Erestor, please forgive me."

"Please stand." Erestor murmured imploringly, looking aside. Raising his voice he addressed the other elves in the hall around them, who still stared at the odd pair, trying to understand what had just happened between them.  
"Leave immediately!"  
His voice was so deadly, so commanding that none of the assembled elves dared to disobey him. Soon they hastened out of the room to avoid the sharp tongue and deathly glare. But the damage was done and for the next decades Lindir and Erestor never really managed to smother the rumours of an affair between them.

Only when they were alone once more and Lindir stood before the darkling, Erestor finally answered.  
"There is nothing to forgive. There are just some very sensitive subjects when it comes to me."

"And I have the misfortune to immediately stumble upon them most ungracefully."

Erestor smiled. "I would not say 'ungracefully'. Certainly I would give you the highest gradings for the exceptional, inventive and acrobatic style with which you always put your foot in it."

Lindir laughed heartily at the uncharacteristic comment. "But mellon! You truly are beautiful when you smile. You should do that more often!"

"Stop that, now!" But the smile on Erestor's face and the endearing blush took the edge of his words.  
"And where do you want to 'carry me off' to?"

Lindir gently linked arms with Erestor and started walking again, but slowly. "As you said yourself that you had no desire for a stroll in the gardens, I thought I would 'carry you off' on horseback."

Immediately Erestor halted, forcing Lindir to come to a stop, also. The minstrel looked back into the stone mask of the chief advisor, a mask of indifference, his shield to the world.

"No."

Lindir raised both eyebrows in question. "No? Why?"

"Because I don't like riding; I don't wear appropriate clothes, nor do I own some; I don't like your company; It would take too long until we returned and I have work to do. The last time I sat on a horse was when I came to Imladris centuries ago. I am not very sportive, I ... I never leave Imladris and ... I don't know. Choose a reason!"

With that, Erestor turned and rushed back towards his office, leaving behind a very confused white-haired minstrel.

* * *

It was a few days later that Celeborn and Galadriel arrived. What should have been a joyous event (for it was the first time since Arwen's birth) was a silent and sorrowful reunion. Celebrían would be lost to them for many a century, they would not see her again until their time came to sail.

After a short formal welcoming the lord and lady were lead to the family wing where their daughter hailed. Celebrían had not left her chambers since her return and not wanted to do so until the day she would depart for Mithlond the following year. Being the proud elleth that she was, Celebrían feared the reaction of her fellows, the pity in their eyes; and truth be told: she would have seen it had she just stepped out of her little sanctuary.

Long days and long nights the parents talked to her daughter about many a thing that had stayed unspoken for too long. With the help of her mother and father Celebrían found something like peace with her fate even though she could not forget her ordeal and the torture she had endured from the hands of creatures that had once been Elves.

Late one night the lords and ladies of the valley sat on the balcony of Elrond's and Celebrían's chambers. They had mostly sat in silence, giving each other comfort in their presence and watching the moon and stars arise.

"I have spoken with your chief advisor, Elrond." Galadriel said.

Elrond looked up to his mother-in-law. Galadriel had said it with an indifference that in itself was suspicious and she had not looked to him, indicating the seeming unimportance of her remark. But Elrond knew her too well to not notice the gleam in her eyes.

"Erestor" he remarked.

"Yes. An impressive advisor that you have there."

Elrond smiled sadly. "When Dírhael first told me about him, he said something like 'name a profession, any profession, Erestor will master it with ease in no time at all; give him the chance and he will be a great economist, architect, healer and diplomat, all at once.' "  
Elrond broke off and looked up to the stars, blinking his tears away.  
"He was right. He was always right ... I miss him." The last words came out as a whisper.

"You will see him again and he is with his family. Lord Námo will give Dírhael time to heal until he is ready to leave his halls.  
You know that he longed to be with his family. Don't mourn him, there is no need to."  
Glorfindel tried to comfort his friend. He was the only one in Middle Earth who had been in Námo's halls and returned to Middle Earth. He knew of what he spoke.

"You are right, of course. Isn't it strange that we weep for those we know are now safe and will never know hardship, hunger or pain again? Maybe 'tis all out of self-pity, because we are left behind."

"Whatever is the reason, weeping helps us to cast off the shadows on our souls, the weight on our shoulders. We should allow us this weakness to be strong again afterwards." Celeborn said in his deep, calm voice.

Silent minutes passed until Galadriel spoke up again.  
"I must admit that I am curious. Erestor is now practically ruling Imladris single-handedly. Who is he? Where does he hail from?"

Elrond glanced to Celeborn who only shrugged and smiled as if saying 'women and their oddities'. Knowing that the Lady of Lothóriën probably had a very distinct reason to ask about Erestor, Elrond decided to probe a little bit deeper himself. Turning to her, he raised one elegantly curved eyebrow. "Why do you not ask him?"

Galadriel directly gazed at Elrond, suddenly becoming dead serious. "Because he won't answer."

The assembled Elves stared at her in shock, taking in the double meaning of her words. Firstly and not unexpectedly, Erestor had not told her about his more than hard childhood when asked and secondly and more importantly, his mind had not revealed to her what Galadriel surely would have sought to find out with the power of Nenya. Erestor had evaded her telepathic skills and only few Elves were able to do that.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. For a short moment I was able to feel what he felt, before he practically and rather violently pushed me away. I don't know if he was really that upset or if he simply never learned how to do it.  
However he has no true ill will towards anyone here and he grieves deeply for the loss of Dírhael, and even for the other soldiers. I don't think him to be dangerous ... But there is guilt also and much pain. He will start to fade, Elrond."

"No ... he cannot!" Glorfindel cried out. He blushed a little bit as all attention was directed at him and quickly added "We need him here in the Hidden Valley! Imladris has already lost one chief advisor, and three seniors, Erestor cannot be spared. And he cannot die, he never even lived!"

Galadriel turned to Elrond once more. "I would like to speak to him in private, if I may. But he does his best to avoid being alone with me."

"He just lost his adoptive father and only friend, Galadriel. Please give him some time. You say he is no danger, than I see no reason for him to speak about something that he only tried to forget. You don't know what happened in his childhood, Galadriel. If you bring it up again now, I am certain he will fade. Give him a few years, I beg of you."

"Then I will speak with him when he is better."

* * *

Time flowed by. Soon the leaves were falling all around the Hidden Valley and with the falling leaves, the twins returned, having killed as many Orcs as they had been able to. More than one half-healed wound and scar showed the recklessness with which they had fought and attacked in their anger and hate and it caused much concern between the lords and ladies of Imladris and Lóriën.  
So it came that Galadriel invited them to accompany her and Celeborn and Arwen to the Golden Wood, when Celebrían had left and it was to everyone's relief that they agreed. At least they would be out of danger under the watch of their grand-parents.

Elrond passed much time in the company of Celebrían and his family although he started to work again and relieve Erestor a little bit of the heavy workload he had to fulfil. As he saw for himself the amount of work his staff managed to accomplish each day without greater problems he was impressed, although he had a sore conscience for having deserted them for so long.

Immediately he instructed Erestor with employing new apprentices to help out; Erestor, detesting such tasks delegated it to his new student who was only to contact him if he had found a possible candidate. Still Erestor's demands were high and all but two of those who were gifted a qualifying period did not last one week. At last Elrond took his chief advisor aside to explain that the laws of the market applied to the employment market, too; even the principle of the equilibrium of supply and demand.  
Fact was, they needed assistants, and fact was nearly all did not reach the high standards that Erestor placed upon them. So he needed to adjust them until they found enough assistants.  
Erestor grumpily accepted the explanation and needed two months more to employ another three.

All the while the peredhil family prepared themselves for Celebrían's departure, trying to accept it. Celeborn and Galadriel had no minor part in this task and helped where they could while they also stood in contact with their chief advisor and worked on correspondence that he sent them.

So it was in spring the following year that Celebrían finally went on her last great journey. Her family and a rather large entourage made the long way to the Grey Havens where she went aboard of a large white ship that should bear her to Aman. At last Celebrían had gone.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
elleth ~ female elf  
ellyth ~ female elves  
aewithen ~ little bird  
peredhel ~ half elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
hîn ~ children  
mellon ~ friend  
pen neth ~ young one  
ada ~ father


	5. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

**CHAPTER 5: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back**

* * *

Almost fifty years later the scars that Celebrían's departure had left behind were still visible. Arwen had not returned from her journey to Lóriën after her mother's departure, needing her grand-mother close and the twins were mostly out in the wilds to hunt Orcs.  
Driven by guilt and anger Elladan dragged his brother along into a maelstrom of revenge and hate, and many days their family lay awake in fear for their lives.  
But the skilled fighters that they were always returned, although not always unscathed; yet as their skills were increasing the frequencies of injuries decreased.

Aside from that, Imladris had settled into the comfortable rhythm of the Last Homely House again.

Once again the halls were filled with elves and men, sometimes with dwarfs; with laughter and light, songs and stories. Life went on, even without Celebrían; it had just taken awhile for Imladris' inhabitants to realise that.  
But always the memory of Celebrían was held in high regards and her subtle influence still lingered everywhere in the Hidden Valley: her lovely gardens, the choice of furniture and decor everywhere in the house, though it was not a painful memory anymore.

Lindir took over many of Celebrían's duties regarding festivities and furthermore the responsibility of pestering Erestor, how he used to put it. His persistence paid off and more and more Erestor let him close. Often though the minstrel cursed when a seemingly harmless remark caused the advisor to retreat again, but those occurrences were getting fewer and fewer. Over the years both became good friends although that friendship could not stop the advisor from finally starting to fade again.  
The signs were unobtrusive at first, non-remarkable: Erestor started to wear thicker robes even on fine, warm days, then his hearing ability and his sight slowly diminished until it was not much better than that of a common human. Lindir saw those with growing anxiety. He feared for his friend's life. But still it would take decades over decades for him to uncover the nature of Erestor's hurt.

Elrond and Glorfindel stayed friends, for a long time not daring to deepen their relationship even with the acceptance of Elrond's family.  
And Glorfindel enjoyed his deepening friendship with Elrond. His love for the beautiful brunette grew with each passing day and more and more both grew comfortable with the idea of loving each other more than just as friends, letting go of the feeling of cheating on Celebrían.  
They could now often be found together, walking the gardens of Imladris, playing chess, reading in the library. They took their meals together and many evenings they joined their fellow Elves in the Hall of Fire, enjoying the stories and songs there.

Glorfindel did not know when they had missed the moment to change their friendship into something else, but to him it seemed they had: they were friends, each other's confidants but they were not lovers and addressing the subject now after fifty years seemed awkward.  
He still desired the beautiful peredhel, but he had simply no idea how to bring it up with Elrond.

Fortunately, Elrond didn't feel that bound by their habits and routines.

* * *

Glorfindel, after returning from patrol that afternoon, was now enjoying a hot bath in his chambers. He soaked in the warm water, letting it relax his sore muscles. They had not met any Orcs or other difficulties but still it had been tiring with the hot summer sun in their necks, cooking them alive in their armour.  
He smiled lazily. Glorfindel loved the summer evenings, when the sun had barely set and the hot air, pregnant with damp and an overload of odours made way to the fresh evening air that still pleasantly smelled of flowers. His eyes closed as he sank deeper into the water, relishing the last warmth. Slowly he immersed fully under the foam coated surface, staying there as long as he could.

When finally he had to resurface for lack of air, he nearly bumped against Elrond's head, who had leaned over the tub, obviously watching him, both arms propped up on the rim on each side of the tub.  
Glorfindel blinked the water out of his eyes and smoothed his hair out of his face.

"Welcome home." Elrond whispered with a small smile. The peredhel's head tilted forward just a little bit, his face only centimetres away from that of his captain.  
Elrond smirked ever so slightly as he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply the scent of the blond ellon's favourite bathing oil.

Glorfindel felt his heart race. Valar, every single clear and logic thought had fled his mind, leaving room to only feel, smell, see and hear. He could feel Elrond's breath tickling his wet skin, could smell the sweet odour of sea buckthorn.

Elrond.

He could see him, his smooth skin, his long eyelashes, high cheekbones; His long, shining brown hair – an image of perfection.  
And he swallowed as he heard Elrond's deep calm voice, full of affection and contentment.

'Eru don't let me get aroused just now' he begged as he swallowed again. Suddenly his throat seemed so very dry.

Then, much to his disappointment, Elrond stood back again, smiling down at him. "Forgive me if I startled you. I just came to invite you to dine with me ... in my chambers. Let us say in one hour?"

Glorfindel only nodded, not trusting his voice, a flabbergasted expression on his face. Elrond chuckled affectionately and turned, leaving the bathroom. At the door he turned once to look back at his captain still seated in the bathtub. 'Ha, and Elrohír said I was rusty!' he grinned to himself.

One hour to complete the preparations. That was more than enough time.

* * *

Glorfindel sank back into the cooling water, frowning at the ceiling, decorated with wooden wine tendrils. What had possessed the Half-Elf to approach him now after all that time? Why so suddenly?

And what made Elrond think he needed to seduce him? Not that he minded it ... it was just unexpected and unnecessary since he already loved *and* desired the peredhel.

Smiling nonetheless the blond captain scrambled out of the bathtub and fetched a towel. Just in that moment he heard the door to his chambers being closed and hurriedly he sneaked to the bathroom door, opening it ajar with one hand, the other keeping the towel in place around his hip.

"Glorfindel! Stop acting as if all of Imladris were stuffed with spies, murderers and lunatics! Come out of there!" Elladan called while exasperatedly rolling his eyes and throwing himself on the captain's sofa.

The blonde sighed. That was so not the time to lecture the elder twin on the politeness or rudeness of (not) knocking. He wrapped the towel around his hip, secured it and stepped out of the bathroom. Leaning against the doorframe he gave Elladan his best I-am-not-in-the-mood-for-your-antics look.  
"Elladan this is really not the right time, can we not adjourn this to tomorrow?"

The brunet grinned mischievously. "Nope ... when do you meet with my father?" he cocked his head.

Glorfindel could not believe his ears. "Excuse me?"

Elladan sat up again, resting his elbows on his knees. Slowly as if talking with an extremely slow child he repeated his question. "When do you meet with ada?"

Suspiciously the blond raised his chin, observing his opponent closely. "Something less than one hour ..."

The elder twin immediately stood. "Very well! That's just enough time."  
With few steps he headed for the door and took a large parcel from where it had been placed on the floor. With quick movements he tore away the ribbon and threw the cover through the room.

"Elladan, what are you doing?"

The next moment, the peredhel took out a beautiful blue velvet tunic and black leggings, letting the box fall unceremoniously to the ground.

"This will look so flattering on you ..." he held it up so that Glorfindel could inspect the beautiful garments. The blond stepped closer, shoving the tunic aside so that he could look at the Half-Elf's smug smile.

"You don't want to tell me that you are trying to set me up with your father, do you?"

"See? That's why I like you so much ... you're so smart." The elder twin said jokingly.

"Elladan, please!"  
Pleadingly, Glorfindel stared into the silver eyes so much like Elrond's. Elbereth, how was he ever to deny them anything when they looked so much like their father, his love? Those eyes held no malevolence.

"Okay, what do you want me to do?"

Elladan gave him a winning smile. "You are going to put this on as it is a present from Elrohír, Arwen and me. I will leave you then with the best wishes from all of us."

Glorfindel took the garments that he was handed. "I appreciate that, I really do. But Elladan, the three of you can't ..."  
The blond smiled awkwardly. "Such things as love must come at their own time, Elladan. I like your father, and Elrond likes me in turn. If and when we decide to deepen our friendship ... it will happen when it happens."

"Well, I think you will see that ..." The brunet cleared his throat. "... ada is quite ready to take that step. And you will wear this. It would break Arwen's heart if you didn't. Elrohír and I stole one of your tunics and legging and send it to Lóriën just for Arwen to take the measures and surely she worked night and day with the tailors there before sending it back, and you know the passes are not really safe right now...  
You're not going to belittle that and trash my sister's heart, are you?"

Glorfindel straightened and cocked his head. "You are manipulative, Elladan. Yes, I am going to wear it. But you promise to stay out of the relationship between your father and me."  
He raised one elegant eyebrow to affirm that order.

Elladan smiled. "Of course Glorfindel."  
With light steps the eldest of Elrond's children strode towards the doors and outside. Just at the door he hesitated one moment more.  
"Nearly forgot to tell you: we asked Erestor to take over for ada tomorrow. And Elrohír and I will take your duties. So feel free to take the rest of the day – and the night – off!"

"Elladan out!"

The Half-Elf chuckled and vanished in the corridor.

* * *

Elrond looked his image over in the large mirror, rather pleased with his work. He had discarded his regal robes for a dark brown silk tunic with silver embroidering, grey leggings and soft brown leather boots. He looked like a stranger even to himself. Young, full of energy and life and yet calm, self-confident without being boastful.  
Yes, he knew how others saw him, and he knew what he was and what not. This trait gained him the sereneness and wisdom that others credited him for. He knew his limits, knew when to back off and when to stand his ground.  
Now was the time to attack.

At the soft knock he turned and smiled. Quickly he made his way to the door and opened.  
His eyes widened ever so slightly as he took in his captain's appearance. "Glorfindel, you look ... stunning."  
And he did. The blue tunic emphasized his sea blue eyes and ... he swallowed, noticing the tight black leggings that did not leave much to the imagination, not only flattering the strong legs.

"Not more than you, Elrond. Shall I come in now or are we to dine in the corridor?"  
Glorfindel smirked, feeling the grey eyes raking over his form. Elladan had been right; Elrond seemed unwilling to lose any more time. He watched as the Half-Elf stepped aside and begged him in with one fluid hand gesture.

Glorfindel stepped into the spacious chambers of his lord and best friend, an appreciative smile ghosting over his lips at seeing the amount of work Elrond had put in them ... or had the other peredhil their hand in there also?

The whole room was lightened with numerous candles, bathing the walls in a flickering, warm, orange light. The windows had been opened to prevent the room from heating up too much because of the candles.  
In the centre of the chamber laid cushions and soft furs to sit upon and in the middle was a tray with a variety of dishes: poultry with a crackling of honey and spices, potato gratin, braised vegetables and bread. On one side stood a beautifully crafted bowl with peaches, apples, grapes and other fruits.

Suddenly the blond warrior became aware of Elrond's presence close behind him; hot breath brushed his neck, making his toes curl.

"I hope you like what you see." Elrond quietly spoke against his ear.

Glorfindel grinned. Elrond was younger than he himself if one counted the years in the Halls of Waiting; and Glorfindel was certainly no virgin maiden, neither was he inexperienced in the finer arts of seduction. Oh he could play this game, too. This should prove to be an interesting evening.

Making a step forward while turning around to face the other ellon, he effectively removed himself from Elrond's presence, cocking his head and smiling coyly. He took a moment to let his gaze drift downwards over his lord and friend's fine sculptured body, long enough to leave no doubt about his desire for the brunet but not long enough to be overly brash. "Very much so."  
The half-elf smiled gently at the blond ellon.  
"Good. Then please seat yourself before dinner gets cold."

The blond ellon complied, settling down on the fur covered cushions. The sweet smell of the delicacies invaded his nose and he closed his eyes, relishing their odour while Elrond seated himself opposite to him.

Glorfindel watched his lord filling two plates with poultry, gratin and vegetables.  
It was an awkward situation, he thought. Here they were, both knowing what they were to each other: nothing less than soul mates, each other's true love; both knowing that they were meant to be together, that someday they would be united in marriage; and still both of them were dancing around each other as if nothing of all this was certain, as if they still needed to win the other.  
But well, it was fun nonetheless ... in that rather strange way.

He took the plate that he was given and when urged by his lord he began to eat.

Half an hour later, both elves were joking freely, a now empty bottle of wine standing on the floor beside them. Glorfindel still nibbled on a piece of poultry while his friend smiled at the captain's appetite.

"That was delicious, Elrond."

The Half-Elf chuckled warmly. "I'll forward your praise to the cook, she will be delighted. But don't eat much more or I fear you will not be able to enjoy desert."

"I know what I would *enjoy* for desert."

Elrond laughed. "You are impossible, Glorfindel."

"Just because I am more forthright?"

"I like forthrightness." For a moment he remembered saying something similar to Erestor and his smile diminished ever so slightly. Immediately he chided himself for letting his chief advisor enter his thoughts when his soon-to-be-lover was there right in front of him. Wondering just why the quiet darkling was never far from his thoughts, he set down his nearly empty plate, concentrating on the blond balrog slayer instead.

Slowly Elrond stood and walked over to where Glorfindel sat. The blond never let him out of his eyes, following his every move. Coming to a halt right in front of his captain, Elrond gracefully and swiftly sat down next to Glorfindel.

"I like forthrightness ... " he repeated, taking a battle hardened hand in his, gently stroking with his thumb over the skin.  
Looking into the blue eyes he decided to do away with the foolish indecision. They had danced around each other long enough.

"Half a century ago you told me to let things develop."

Glorfindel nodded. He could remember that dark day only too well, the day Celebrían had told them that she would sail, the day she had set Elrond free 'to live and love'.

"I already loved you then, and now ..."

Leading the warrior's hand to his lips he brushed a soft kiss over the fingers, making Glorfindel smile at the tingling sensation.  
"I was waiting for you to give me a sign, and you were waiting for me ... but now I think we both have waited long enough. I love you and if you will have me ..."

Suddenly he smiled ... so much for doing away with the foolishness. Valar, they were already sharing everything except their bodies, why not take that last step now? But still ... his love deserved more considerate actions. "Glorfindel of Imladris, will you give me permission to court you?"

Glorfindel could not stop himself from chuckling in a mixture of happiness and amusement.  
"Me being courted?" then he sobered. "I would like that very much."

Slowly leaning forward, Glorfindel brushed his lips over Elrond's pale ones. How long he had dreamt of this very moment, of those lips, their taste, their softness.  
He could feel them moving against his own as Elrond deepened the kiss, slowly, sensually and all thought fled his mind.

Only when he felt those heavenly lips drawing away he found back to reality. Blinking he looked into the silver of Elrond's twinkling orbs, breathing heavily.  
They revealed so much to him, love, merriment, mischief and so much more. "Come here, love."

Gently Glorfindel pulled the Half-Elf close into his arms, settling the slightly smaller body against his chest. His mouth sought out Elrond's neck, kissing and suckling, tasting his skin, feeling the other's pulse quicken under his touch.  
His hands wandered over the strong but lean body while the Half-Elf turned around.

Soon the night's air was filled with soft moans and gasps and whispered words of love and promises.

* * *

Much later they lay entwined on the large bed that Elrond had shared with his wife half a century ago, Glorfindel spooned around his lover, playing with the soft brown strands.

"Remind me to thank your children, melethen."

Elrond moved in his arms to be able to see the blond ellon behind him, silently questioning him with his eyes.

"They urged you to confront your feelings, and me to face mine, didn't they?"

"I guess we needed someone to nudge us into the right direction but I did not know they came to you, too."

Glorfindel nuzzled his lover's neck, placing a gentle kiss on the delicate skin. "Elladan gave me this tunic to wear, even telling me that they would take over for me tomorrow and that they arranged for Erestor to cover up for you."

To his surprise Elrond sighed. "I am not sure if we should do that. You know that Erestor is not well. I have proof that he is once again under the hold of the elven sickness: only a week ago I found a large amount of my sleeping draughts gone. A fire now constantly burns in his office and I think his senses are diminishing ..."  
He sighed, turning to the blond. "Excuse me for ruining a perfect moment like this. I did not intend to."

"You did not. Let us then take the morning off and see to it that Lindir takes our young chief advisor outside. He seems to be the only one whom Erestor allows close."

Glorfindel said this with no small amount of concealed envy. He and Elrond had protected the darkling long before Lindir had chosen to shower Erestor with his attentions. Now rumours even had it that the two of them were lovers and although he did not quite believe it and although Elrond was right there in his arms, he could not stop himself from envying the fair minstrel.  
Strangely enough similar thoughts occupied Elrond's mind.

But still Lindir seemed to be the only one able to ease whatever burden Erestor carried on his shoulders and so they would approve of this friendship and maybe even this love and support it in whatever way possible.

For the moment they had each other and that was more than enough.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhel ~ half elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
ada - father  
melethen ~ my love

* * *

I know, this really did take a disagreeable course, but the Second Part is better, and a lot more exciting ;-), as I said, this was merely meant to be a prequel...

**The sequel is called "Scarred Fate". I will post the first chapter of that story tomorrow.**


End file.
